





* 


THE MOVIE BOYS 
IN THE JUNGLE 


OR 


Lively Times Among the 
Wild Beasts 


BY 
VICTOR APPLETON 


Author of “The Movie Boys on Call,” “The Motte 
Boys and the Wreckers,” ete. 





GARDEN City EW YORK 
GARDEN CITY PUBLISHING ee INc. 
1926 


THE FAMOUS MOVIE BOYS 
SERIES 


BY 
VICTOR APPLETON 


See back of book for list of titles 


A) 





COPYRIGHT, 1913, 1926, BY 
GARDEN CITY PUBLISHING COMPANY, INC. 


THE MOVIE BOYS IN 
THE JUNGLE 


CHAPTER I 
UNEXPECTED NEWS 


“THat’s the way to do it! Jump right into 
the surf and get after her, Mr. Piper!” 

“Move a little faster, can’t you?” 

“If he doesn’t that big wave is going to get 
him as sure as fate!” 

“There he goes! Stop. those moving picture 
machines, boys!” 

A big wave came tumbling up the beach, roll- 
ing over and over in its foamy grip a man clad in 
a life guard’s bathing costume; while farther up 
the sands two lads, at the handles of moving pic- 
ture cameras, ceased grinding away at the film, 
and doubled up with mirth. 


(Then, when the wave had spent its force, the 
I 


2 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


man arose, got rid of the water in his eyes and 
the sand in his mouth, and exclaimed: 

“T knew it! I knew something would happen — 
if you tried one of these lighthouse dramas! I’m 
done! I quit here and now!” 

“Oh, C. C., just one more trial!’ pleaded a 
man who seemed to be a theatrical manager. 
“You can do it if you try again; I’m sure you 
can!” 

“Never again!” cried the man, and then the 
two boys and the other members of the company 
gathered about him to use their persuasion. 

“C. C. is up to his old tricks; isn’t he, Blake?” 
remarked one of the lads, as he looked at his mov- 
ing picture machine to see how many feet of film 
had been registered. 

“That’s what he is, Joe,” responded the other 
youth. “But I don’t know as I can blame him 
this time. Something did happen, in spite of the 
fact that he’s always predicting calamities that 
seldom come to pass.” 

“Think they’ll get him to try it again?” 

“Oh, yes, I guess so. Mr, Ringold and Mr. 
Hadley generally get what they want. There, 
he’s going to do it over again. I guess we'd 
better get back to our machines,” for the lads 
had joined the group about the man in bathing 
costume. 


UNEXPECTED NEWS 3 


“Well, Pll try that rescue scene once more,” 
finally announced the person who had been desig- 
nated as Mr. Piper and also as C. C. 

“But it does seem,” he went on, “that I always 
have to do all the work in these tank dramas. 
I’m the one that’s always falling in the water and 
getting my death of cold. I always have to do 
the rescuing. Why can’t I be rescued myself 
some time? Though I suppose if I jumped in, 
and waited for some one to get me out, they’d 
let me drown. Oh, why did I ever go into this 
miserable business, anyhow?” and while uttering 
these dismal words the man made a series of 
comical faces that sent the others into spasms of 
laughter. 

“Oh, cheer up, Gloomy!” cried one of the young 
ladies of the company. ‘You'll be happy yet.” 

“I doubt it,’ came the answer. “But go 
ahead !”” 

“All ready out there!” called Mr. Ringold, head 
of the Film Theatrical Company, which was 
making a series of dramas for moving’ pictures 
on the lower California coast, near San Diego. 
“All ready out there in the boat! C. C. is going 
to try the rescue once more.” 

“And look out for the big waves, C. C.,” ad- 
vised the manager. “Just swim as you always 
do. You've been in the surf before. And you’re 


4. MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


supposed to be a life guard, you know. They 
can swim like fishes.” 

“T’m not a fish!” declared the actor. 

“Be ready, Miss Lee!” called Mr. Ringold, to 
a young lady, who was out some distance on the 
‘lazily rising and falling ocean, in a small boat. 
“Remember you’re supposed to be adrift in an 
open craft—you have been lost for days and 
days. You finally get near shore and the life 
guard sees you. He swims out at the peril of his 
life'and rescues you.” 

“That’s it—always at the risk of my life,” 
grumbled C. C. Piper, to give him his right 
name. “If I don’t drown, I get my death of 
cold!” : We 
“Go ahead!” cried Mr. Ringold, impatiently. 
“Remember, Miss Lee, you’re supposed to be 
nearly starved. The life guard brings you in and 
carries you to the lighthouse. There you fall in 
love with the young keeper, and the life guard 
and he have trouble over you. But we’ll get those — 
scenes later. All ready now, C. C. Jump in. 
Joe—Blake, be ready with your cameras there!” 

“All right!’ cried the two lads, and, as the 
actor once more plunged into the surf, Joe and 
Blake began turning the handles of the moving 
picture cameras. 

‘The machines clicked and purred as the film 


UNEXPECTED NEWS 5 


unwound from one reel, passed behind the lens 
with its rapidly opening and closing shutter, and 
then was wound on another reel, pictures being 
taken at the rate of sixteen per second. 

This time nothing happened. C. C. swam out 
to the boat containing Miss Lee, one of the 
younger actresses, brought her to shore, and she 
was carried into the lighthouse, which was near 
at hand. | 

“That'll be all for the present, boys,” directed 
Mr. Ringold. “The next scenes will take place 
in the lighthouse, and I’ll have to arrange for 
some lights there, as it’s too dark to get the pic- 
tures without. I won’t need you for several 
hours, and then this will bring our work on the 
Pacific coast to a close.” 

“That lets us out, Blake,” said one lad to the 
other. “What shall we do?” 

“Go back to the boarding house and finish pack- 
ing up, I guess. If we’re going to make that 
trip to China, to look for your sister, who is sup- 
posed to be with some missionaries there, we’ve 
got lots to do yet. Where is your father?” 

“He went to the postoffice to see if there was 
any mail. He expected something from that mis- 
sionary to whom he wrote for more explicit direc- 
tions how to get to the station where my sister 
Jessie is supposed to be. He had rather indefinite 


6 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


ones when he started for Hong Kong, just before 
he was wrecked.” 

“That’s so. I say, Joe! It’s going to be quite 
an experience for us to go to China. Vm glad 
you thought of taking a moving picture camera 
along. We will get some good films, I believe.” 

“So do IJ, but I won’t be much interested in 
them until I find my sister.” : 

“T suppose not. Well, come on back to our 
shack,” and the two lads, Joe Duncan and Blake 
Stewart, moving picture operators, who had been 
engaged to “film” a series of dramas on the 
Pacific coast for Mr. Ringold, packed up their 
machines and left the beach. The theatrical com- 
pany went inside the’ government lighthouse, 
which they had been permitted to use for part of 
the moving picture play. 

Some months before, Joe and Blake, after a 
series of strange adventures, which I shall tell 
you about in brief, presently, reached San Diego 
with the company. Joe was on the track of his 
father, whom he had not seen since he was a. 
baby. He learned that Mr. Duncan was an as- — 
sistant keeper at the very lighthouse in which the ~ 
little drama was now taking place. 

But Mr. Duncan had left there just before Joe 
and his chum, Blake, arrived. It was said he had 
fled to escape being arrested as a wrecker of 


UNEXPECTED NEWS > 


ships by means of false lights, but this was dis- 
proved, and it was learned that Mr. Duncan had 
_set out for China to find his daughter Jessie, who 
had disappeared at the same time as had Joe. 

But the vessel on which Mr. Duncan sailed 
was wrecked. He was picked up by a ship bound 
for San Francisco, and this craft foundered, too, 
in a great storm near San Diego. 

It chanced that Mr. Ringold wanted moving 
pictures of a storm and a wreck, and while the 
life savers were rigging up the breeches buoy to 
bring ashore the unfortunates, Joe and Blake 
took moving pictures of the stirring scene. 

The last to come: ashore was the captain and 
Mr. Duncan, and thus Joe found his father. The 
latter cleared himself of the false charge, and told 
how he had been seeking his daughter, who was 
said to be a missionary’s helper in China. 

Of course, Joe at once decided to give up his 
work for the Film Theatrical Company and ac- 
company his parent on the quest, and Blake 
elected to go with his boyhood chum. But there 
were a few moving pictures yet to be taken to 
finish the work on the coast, and the boys agreed 
to do them for Mr. Ringold. This was what they 
were engaged on when the present story opens. 

“I wonder what it will be like in China?” 
mused Joe, as he and his chum walked on. © 


8 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


“Oh, just like what we’ve read about, I expect. 
Men with pigtails, and women with fans, tea 
gardens, vases, dragons, and all that.”’ 

“We ought to get some pretty good pictures, 
then,’ went on Joe. | 

“That’s right,” agreed Blake. 

“T can hardly wait to start,” continued his 
chum. “To think that I’ve found my father, when 
I never expected to see him again, and that m 
going to have a sister. Ill soon have quite a 
family, Blake.” 

“That’s what you will. Well, I wish you luck. 
I wonder what your sister Jessie will be like?” 

““She’s about a year older than I am,”’ remarked 
Joe. “Dad said so. And he said she was very 
pretty when she was.a baby. Poor Jessie! To 
think that she doesn’t know she has a father any 
more than I did a few months ago. Won't she 
be surprised when we come walking in on her, 
over in China, and ask for a cup of tea?” 

“T guess she will, Joe. Well, ’'m going to pack 
up. We have only about a week more here, and 
then Ho! for Hong Kong!” 

“That’s right. Say, VIl need two trunks to 
take all the truck I’ve accumulated since we came 
here.” : | 

“You'll have to leave some of it, I reckon.” 

For a time there was silence in the rooms of the 


UNEXPECTED NEWS 9 


two lads; broken only by the noise they made in 
packing their trunks. Presently Joe said: 

“Seems to me Dad is a long while coming back 
4rom the postoffice,” for Mr. Duncan had taken 
up his residence with his son in the big theatrical 
boarding house on the beach. 

“Tt’s quite a walk into town,” observed Blake. 

“Tll tell you what let’s do,” suggested his 
chum. 

“What ?” 

*“Let’s walk in and meet him. Then I’ll know 
sooner just where my sister is. I want to write 
to her.” 

“AMl right, ’m with you; come on,” and the 
two, leaving their packing half finished, started 
for San Diego, which was some miles from the 
little fishing settlement of Chester, where most of 
the films had been made. | 

“That looks like him coming,” observed Blake, 
some time afterward, when he and his chum had 
walked on for a considerable distance toward the 
town. “It walks like him, anyhow.” 
| “Yes, that’s Dad,” observed Joe. “Say, do you 
know he’s just like I pictured him in my mind, 
after we met Uncle Bill, the time he rescued us 
from those Moqui Indians. Dad is just as I 
thought he’d be; a bit younger, perhaps, but other- 
wise the same.” 


to MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


“That’s good. It’s nice not to be disappointed. 
But he seems to have a letter, Joe.” 

“That’s right; he has. I hope it’s from Jessie, 
though that can hardly be, as Dad only wrote to 
the missionary headquarters in New York to find 
out her exact location in China. But he sure 
has something,” and Joe looked closely at the man 
who was approaching, holding in his hand a bit 
of paper. | 

At that moment Mr. Duncan looked up and saw 
his son and the latter’s chum. But he did not 
quicken his pace, though Joe broke into a run. 

“Hello, Dad!” he cried. “Any news?” 

““Y es—there—there’s some news, Joe,” was the 
answer. 

“That’s rather odd,” mused Blake. “He 
doesn’t speak as if it was good news. I wonder 
if anything could have happened ?” 

The same thought must have come to Joe, for 
he hesitated a moment, and then, hastening on,. 
was soon at his father’s side. 

‘‘What’s the matter, Dad?’ he exclaimed. “Is 
anything wrong? Isn’t Jessie in China? Is she 
—is she dead ?” | 

“No, Joe, not dead, as far as I can make out, 
but I have unexpected news just the same—news 
I don’t like!” and he looked at the letter in his. 
hand. 


UNEXPECTED NEWS tI 


“What is it, Dad? Tell me!” urged his son. 
“Has anything happened to Jessie? Isn’t she in 
China?” 

“No, Joe, she isn’t.” 

“Where is she?” 

“Why, this letter from the missionary society 
says she changed her mind at the last minute, and 
instead of going to China went to the interior of 
Africa.” 

“To Africa!” cried Joe. 

“Yes, into the jungle; and Joe,” went on Mr. 
Duncan, with a tremor in his voice, “it’s in a 
locality where the natives are said to be none too 
_friendly. Poor Jessie! My poor little girl!” and 
Mr. Duncan turned his face away. 


CHAPTER I] 
ON TO NEW YORK 


Jor Duncan looked at his chum Blake Stewart 
in surprise. Neither knew what to say, and Mr. 
Duncan seemed so affected by the unexpected 
news that his son was seriously alarmed. 

But Joe was used to meeting emergencies. His 
work in taking moving pictures had put him in 
good trim for this. In a moment he had .recoy- 
ered his poise. 

“Gone to Africa; eh?” he exclaimed. ‘Well, 
I don’t know that Africa is much farther than 
China, Dad,” and he spoke cheerfully. 

“What do you mean, son?” 

“T mean that if Jessie has gone to Africa we'll 
go there to get her!” | 
“That’s it!’ cried Blake. “The jungles of 
Africa can’t be much worse than the wild parts of 

China.” 
“But the natives!’ exclaimed Mr. Duncan. 


“This letter says that the African tribes are on 
12 


ON TO NEW YORK 13 


the verge of an uprising. If that had been known 
before Jessie started they would not have let her 
go. As it is, they have written to her, and the 
missionaries she is with—a man and his wife—_ 
to come back. But it will be some time before’ 
they get the letter, for they are far in the interior.” 

“Well, don’t worry, Dad,” advised Joe, cheer- 
fully. “We'll make out all right. We'll soon 
start after her and get her away from those 
natives—if they chance to have her.” 

“Do you mean that?” cried Mr. Duncan. 

“T sure do, Dad. The jungles of Africa, or the 
wilds of China—it’s all the same to us; isn’t it, 
Blake ?” 

“Tt sure is. Count me in!” 

“And will you come with us?’ asked Joe’s 
father. 

“I certainly will!’ came the quick answer. 

“And we won't lose any time,’”’ added. Joe. 
“We were going to engage passage to China; it 
will be just as easy to do so to Africa, though it 
may take a little longer. Now let’s get back to 
the boarding house and arrange the details.” 

And, while father and son, with the latter’s 
chum, are on their way back to the fishing ham- 
let, | will take the opportunity to make my new 
readers a little better acquainted with Joe and 
Blake—the moving picture boys—whose adven- 


14 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


tures they are soon to follow in the “Dark 
Continent.” 

The lads were first told of in the initial volume 
of this series, entitled “‘The Movie Boys on Call”’; 
or ‘‘Filming the Perils of a great City.” In the 
beginning Blake Stewart worked for his uncle, 
Jonathan Haverstraw, in the village of Fayette- 
burg, in the middle part of New York State. Mr. 
Haverstraw had a farm, and on an adjoining 
one, owned by Zachariah Bradley, Joe Duncan 
worked. Joe thought himself without relatives, 
since from’ his earliest days he could remember 
none. | 

Owing to the fact that Mr. Bradley found he 
could no longer pay Joe’s wages, and because 
Blake’s uncle decided to give up his farm and 
retire to a home for the aged, the two lads un- 
expectedly found themselves without positions at 
the same time, Blake having no other relative 
than Mr. Haverstraw. 

But, just at this time, a Mr. Calvert Hadley 
came to Fayetteburg with a theatrical company to 
take some moving pictures. The boys met him, 
and after some negotiations were engaged by him 
to go to New York. : 

There they learned the business and helped Mr. 
Hadley, who was engaged in getting out a “mov- 
ing picture newspaper,” showing the perils of the 





car oe age of ‘Mrs. Betty Os a Southern 


16 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


ceived a strange letter. It intimated that he 
might find his father, of whose existence he was 
uncertain, The letter was written by a roving 
cowboy, and the only clue was that he had been 
at Big B ranch somewhere in Arizona. He for- 
got to mention just where. 

Full of hope, not only of getting films of the 
Indians, but of finding Mr. Duncan, Joe and 
Blake started out. They had many adventures, 
for the theatrical company went with them, Mr. 
Ringold, the proprietor, needing some films of 
the West, with cowboys and Indians. After 
“filming” a number of Western dramas, Joe and 
Blake started off to find the hidden Indians. 
Unexpectedly they located Big B ranch, but the 
cowboy who had written the letter was gone. 
Fiowever, another cowboy, Hank Selby by name, 
decided to go with the lads to help find the 
Indians, for Joe and Blake were tenderfeet. 

They located the fanatical Moquis, got the films 
of the weird dances, were attacked and saved, not 
only themselves, but their rivals. Joe’s uncle, Bill 
Duncan, chanced to be one of the United States 
troopers who drove the Indians back to their 
reservation. 

Joe’s uncle gave news of Joe’s father. The 
latter, it seems, had been made a widower when 


ON TO NEW YORK 17 


the two children—Joe and Jessie—were young. 
He placed them in the care of a family, and went 
to the gold fields. When he came back—dquite a 
rich man—the two children had disappeared and 
he could find no trace of them, as the family he 
left them with had separated. 

Joe’s uncle said the lad’s father was a light- 
house keeper somewhere on the California coast, 
and, after the Indian pictures had been obtained, © 
Joe decided to look for his parent. Blake offered 
to accompany him. 

The boys thought they would have to say good- 
bye to their theatrical friends, but Mr. Ringold 
had long contemplated a series of sea dramas, 
and, learning that the two lads were going to the 
coast, he hired them, together with Mr. Hadley, 
to make the films near the Pacific Ocean. 

In the ‘third book of the series, entitled ‘“‘The 
Movie Boys and the Wreckers’’; or “Facing the 
Perils of the Deep,” you will find the details of 
further strange happenings. 

Mr. Duncan, so Joe learned, was assistant 
keeper of a lighthouse near San Diego. Going 
there with the company, which engaged quarters 
in the beach settlement of Chester, Joe sought his 
parent. But, to his surprise, Mr. Duncan had 
left unexpectedly, and the lightkeeper intimated 













Odea 


to Blake, privately, that it was. 5 2 goo 

had nN 

Pressed for a reason, the pe aan that d 
tectives had come to arrest Mr. Duncan on a 
_ charge of having helped to wreck some vessels ‘sf 
means of false lights on the coast. BEN As 

How the boys traced the real wreckers | and a as- 
sisted in their capture; how they toek ‘part in 
~ thrilling sea scenes, and helped make. films for the 


theatrical company, I have set down oes in the 








nean » 


BN 





among them, and on the beat Hie fer: u 
The two were happy, and Mr. Duncan ol 
Jong search for his children. 












aa figs che. name eileen: Cutler. He 
} he or used to call him “Christopher Cus- 










| EP eeenarled Blake, when he and his chum, 
1 i Mr ‘Duncan, had reached the oe 


£ eore , 
Tata oP 
peri air es 

° Cee 










»” answered Mr. Duncan, “she is with a 
Mrs. “pies at a Syieipaie station’ 












>? 


a poor little girl! 
3 Dad! yes = her! Ge exclaimed 





20 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


“Of course we will!” said Blake, with a confi- 
dence he did not altogether feel. “I wish we were 
there now. I’ve always wanted to go to Africa.” 

“We'll have to start from New York,” said 
Mr. Duncan, who had been looking at maps and 
steamer routes. “And the sooner we get there the 
better? 

“We might as well travel with the theatrical 
crowd,” suggested Blake. ‘They'll soon be leay- 
ing, and we'll have company. Besides, Mr. - 
Ringold might decide to get some jungle dramas, 
and we could film them.” 

But the theatrical manager had no such in- 
tention. 

“I’m going to run a series of city dramas,” he 
said, when the boys told him the news. “Of 
course, I’d like to have you make the pictures for 
me, but if you are going to Africa you can't. 
However, Mr. Hadley will do it, and when you 
come back I may have a new commission for you. 
I wish you all sorts of luck.” 

“They'll never come back alive,” predicted 
€. C., in his most gloomy tones, and then he 
continued to hum a comic song. 

“Oh, don’t be so melancholy,” said Miss Lee, 
one of the actresses. 

“Terrible place—African jungle,” went on the - 
comedian. ‘‘Fevers, wild animals, wilder natives, 


ON TO NEW YORK pe 


snakes, elephants, bugs of all kinds, swamps— 

ugh! Excuse me!” 

“Qh, I guess we can manage,” said Joe, cheer- 
fully. 

“Tf. we can’t we'll send for you,” added Blake, 
with a laugh. 

“Never!” cried C. C. Piper. 

The final scenes at the lighthouse were filmed, 
the boys and their friends packed up, and then, 
accompanied by the theatrical company, Joe, 
Blake and Mr. Duncan started for New York, 
soon to embark for the jungles of Africa. 


CHAPTER III 
THE CIRCUS WRECK 


“WE'RE making good time, Blake.” 

“That's right, Joe. It’s a little too fast to suit 
me. I always get to thinking what would happen 
if we hit anything at full speed,” and Blake 
Stewart looked out of the window rather appre- 
hensively at the landscape flitting past. 

“Oh, don’t come any of that C. C. Piper talk,” 
urged Joe, with a laugh at his chum. “Where 
is he, anyhow?” — 

“Up in the smoker, I Ne He said he was 
-going there.” 

“And he’ll come back, and complain that he’s 
full of tobacco germs, or something like that, 
and won’t live a week.” 

“That’s right,” agreed Blake. 

The boys, with Mr. Duncan and the theatrical 
company, were speeding East in a fast train, all 
of them anxious to reach New York. It was 


their second day since leaving the coast, and to 
22 








THE CIRCUS WRECK © 23 


‘ Joe, though the train was making exceptionally 


fast time, as Blake remarked, the cars seemed 


- fairly to crawl along. 


“T suppose you’re anxious to get there,” re- | 
marked Blake, when they had stopped at a sta- 
tion, and were again on the move. 

“Yes, they can’t reach New York any too soon 


for us; can they, Dad?” and Joe. glanced toward 
his father, who was looking at,some papers. 


“That's right, son,” came the answer. ‘‘Every 
time I think of poor little Jessie, out there among 


those savages, it makes me nervous. I haven’t 
seen her since she was a baby, when I left her 
in the care of the family I supposed would keep - 
her until I could get back.” 


“What did they do with her?” asked Blake, 
who had not heard all the particulars. 
“Well, they had bad luck, too, it seems, and 


had to separate. In that way both Joe and Jessie 
became lost to me, but I have Joe back,” and he 
if glanced oly at his son. 

“And you’re not going to lose me again ina 
at hurry, either!” exclaimed the lad. “Folks are 
too scarce with me to get rid of ’em when I don’t — 
u have to. But, Dad, do you Nie! think there is 
any danger for Jessie?” 
i Pag “I don’t know, son. I’ve hake watching the 
_ newspapers lately, and they haven’t said anything 





24 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


about trouble with the natives in Africa. Though 
it’s so far off, and news travels so slowly in the 
jungle, that anything might have happened and 
we wouldn’t know of it until it was all over.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry,” suggested Blake. 
“She is in good hands; isn’t she?” 

“Yes, the head of the missionary society writes 
that Mr. and Mrs. Brown have had much experi- 
ence in Africa. They know the natives, and the 
latter trust them. Jessie went as a sort of assist- 
ant to Mrs. Brown, you know. I can't imagine, 
though, why she should go into foreign work.” 

“Maybe she wanted to find you, Dad,” sug- 
gested Joe. ‘You know one reason I came out 
to film those crazy Indians was to have a chance 
to look you up. Maybe Jessie did the same 
thing.” 

“Perhaps,” admitted Mr. Duncan. “Well, I 
only hope she is all right. It will be some time 
before we can see her, even if we have good luck.” 

“What route are we going to take?” asked 
Blake, who was always interested in geography. 

“From New York,’’ spoke Mr. Duncan, con-; 
sulting some memoranda he had made, “we take 
a German steamer for Naples, Italy.” 

“Italy!” cried Joe. “I thought we were going 
to: Africas” 

“We are,” said his father; “but unless you want 


THE CIRCUS WRECK 25 


to land on the West coast, and travel all the way 
across the continent, which is almost impossible, 
in order to get to the Victoria Nyanza, the prac- 
tical route is by way of Naples, the Mediterranean 
Sea, Suez Canal, Red Sea, Gulf of Aden, and so 
out into the Indian Ocean. We will land at 
Mombasa, and after a trip on the Uganda Rail- 
road we will strike into the interior.” 

“It’s a long trip,” sighed Joe. 

“Oh, we'll soon make it,” spoke his father. 
“It's better than going around by way of the 
Cape of Good Hope, and striking up through 
the Mozambique channel between Africa and 
Madagascar. It won't take long, once we get 
to New York. But the journey in Africa, after 
we leave the railroad, may be tedious, and, I may 
as well add, not a little dangerous.” 

“Dangerous!” cried Joe. 

“Yes, from wild men and wild beasts. But I 
am going to take all the precautions I can. I am, 
as you know, boys, fairly well off now, and I 
can afford to hire something of an expedition 
to help us in this quest after Jessie. We will have 
a safari and # 

“What's a safari?” asked Blake. 

“Tt’s what they call an expedition in Africa,” 
explained Mr. Duncan. “It consists of porters 
and native policemen. It’s the only way to travel. 























_ Of course, we won’t have as ae nN one 28 certain 
- well-known hunters have had, but we will do the 
best we can. I am bound to find my aah aay 
I spend my last cent!” ara 
“And we're with you!” cried Ble. : ae 
can have all my share of the business, Joe!” i and 
he held out his hand to his chum. _ A ee 
“Thanks, old man!” replied the belie and, 
moisture came to his eyes. “It’s good of you, 
but I don’t want to take your share of the profits.’ a4 
“Of course you will!” cried Blake. “Didn't” 
we make it toe And we'll spend it to- 
gether !” x 
I might explain that the Does fad done very 
well in their moving picture business, — an the: 
prize they won for the Indian films had given” 
them a substantial bank account. Mr. Ringold 
also paid them well, and, weiss their Rirci'siy 











THE CIRCUS WRECK a ae, 

| The train rushed on, seeming to increase in 

speed, and others than Blake looked apprehen- 

__ sively out of the windows as the landscape seemed 

fairly to fly past. 

_ “What’s the hurry, conductor?” asked Mr. 

_ Hadley, when that official came through, as the 

cars swept around a curve with such force that 
several held on to their seats in fear. _ 

_ “Making up lost time,” was the short response. 

i “Don’t get nervous. This is the best stretch of 

_ the whole road here.” 

_ “Then there’s sure to be a wreck,” predicted 

C.C. “It’s always on the best stretches that the 

yi accidents occur. We'll leave the track, roll over 

pin ditch, or go through a bridge—I’m sure 

Pott!’ 

. Oh, you cee thing!’ cried Miss Shay, an- 

~ other of the actresses. ‘‘Can’t some of you men 

_ do something to him?” and she cay to the 

actors of the company. 

_ “We'll drop him at the next tank station, if he - 
doesn’t cut out that line of talk,” declared Mr. 
ey tobers. who played the “villain.” 

: “What! And have me starve to death?” eed 

/ a Piper. “T had almost rather be wrecked in 

_ some nice locality where there was plenty to eat. 

; A wreck there——” 

Beas oe not finish his words, for at that mo- 


7t 








28 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


ment there came a grinding of the brakes on the 
wheels, so suddenly that several of the passengers 
were thrown from their seats. 

“It’s a wreck, all right!” yelled Blake, getting 
to his feet. 

“Hold on, everybody!” cried Joe. 

The train shook and trembled as the engineer 
endeavored, by the use of the emergency air 
brake, to bring it to a stop, Then there came a 
crash, a splintering of wood and a clang of metal. 

It was followed by a curious combination of © 
sounds. There were grunts, roars, squeals and 
trumpetings—the neighing of horses, and the 
shouts of men. Chains clanked, and a rumble, as 
of thunder, was heard. 

Then the train came to a stop with a jolt that 
further shook up the theatrical company, which 
was traveling in a private car. 

“For cats’ sake—what’s happened?’ cried 
Blake. 

“Some sort of a smash!” declared Joe, crawl- 
ing out from under a seat, where he had been 
thrown. 

Women were screaming, men were yelling and 
shouting. The hissing of escaping steam could 
be heard, and the moving picture boys, looking 
toward the forward end of their car, saw that 
part of the roof was torn off. But otherwise the 





THE CIRCUS WRECK 29 


vehicle was not much damaged, and no one ap- 
peared to be hurt save for minor cuts and bruises. 

Suddenly Miss Lee, who had slid along the 
aisle to the front end, uttered a scream and came | 
running back. : 

_ “What is it; are you hurt?” asked Blake, catch- 
ing her as she was about to fall. 

“No! No! I’m not hurt! But look! A 
snake! A snake is coming into the car! Oh, 
stop it!” 

The boys looked to where she pointed. Through 
the crack in the roof something long and sinuous 
was thrust inside, and began feeling about. It 
was a dull slate color. 

“Snake?” cried Joe. “That’s no snake!” 

“What is it, then?’ demanded Blake. 

“Tt’s a trunk—an elephant’s trunk!” 

“An elephant!’ screamed Miss Lee. 

“Yes, we ci 

“Then we've wrecked a circus train!” cried 
Blake. He put Miss Lee in a seat, and looked out 
of the window. ‘“That’s what’s happened!’ he 
yelled. ‘We've run into a circus train, and the 
wild animals are all over the track—most of ’em 
alive, too!” 





CHAPTER IV 
A GREAT OPPORTUNITY 


BLAKE’s ringing words caused no little excite- 
ment in the car—excitement that was already in- 
tense, owing to the crash of the wreck. 

‘“What’s that you said?” cried Mr. Duncan, 
for there was so much confusion that Blake's 
words did not carry clearly. 

‘We've struck a circus train,” replied the boy. 
“Not a bad smash, I guess, for I don’t see many 
cars piled up. But a lot of the animals are out.” 

“T knew it!” cried C. C. Piper. “I knew some- 
thing would happen! If I don’t drown I’m saved 
to be eaten by a lion! Oh, why did I ever go 
into this business?’ 

“Ts there any danger, Blake?’ cried Mr. Dun- 
can, coming to the side of his son’s chum, as 
Blake was looking out of the window. “Can 
you see if anyone is hurt?” 

‘“No—none, though some of the animals seem 
to be killed. Joe, come on out an 3 

30 

























. ered: Miss Lee. - “That's a jungle 
, sure! Even though it wasn’t a snake I ee 
s We diat’s a lion.” ye 
“Yes, it’s a lion,’ said Blake, withdrawing his ce ye 
nead from the window; “but it’s in a cage. ee 
y’re running it off one of the smashed flat | 
The lion can’t get out, Miss Lee.” 
ank goodness for that!” she exclaimed. 
Ans so frightened.” 
e chorus of uncouth sounds kept up, but Dive 
od to be lessening. Those in the car picked bee 
elves up from the places whither they had oe 
tossed. No one seemed to be much hurt, 
he C. was aes blood from a cut on 















all. right! cried a brakeman, entering 
ite car at that moment. “It wasn’t a 








‘guess not,” said the brakeman, but the 


ticed that he appeared ill at ease. “You're | 
: here, ss he added. “We may pane some 


ee a . doctor. 
ex ie 3 ASF 
he hurried out, and Blake noticed i athe ok 


Blake looked toward the crack in 2 the = i 


ngoet: we exclaimed, in a 1 whirl 
saw that there was no need for their assist s 
in the theatrical car. 

“Whatiis ite? | 

“Let! S film hie wreck. ms 


dazed ee the oe bf the He y 
“Yes, it : will make some we dandy dig ri 





Heys let's get some views. 
may this ae ves 


here,” for the lads sted Sei f wo we 
oe Fe enke | 








A GREAT OPPORTUNITY 33 


one Pa the hand machines, was with oe bag- 

gage sent on ahead. 

_ “Come on!” cried Blake. “No time to lose. 

They'll get the beasts back in their cages as soon 

as they can.” 

| “That’s so,” agreed his chum. “But if there 

are lions and tigers loose, Blake——” | 
“J don’t believe there are,’ spoke Blake, 

quickly. “I didn’t see any when I looked; but, 

if there are, the beasts tls be too dazed to make 

any trouble. Come on.” 

_ “I’m with you!” cried Joe. and they got out 

their camera. 

, “What are you going to do?” asked Mr. 

Beco who was binding up a cut on Miss 

teed s arm. 

_ “Get some moving pictures Of this’? 

4 “Good for you!” the theatrical manager cried. 

“Maybe I can work ’em in some of my dramas.” 

_ Joe and Blake were soon outside the car. A 

scene of confusion met their eyes, but it was not 

as bad as they had anticipated. The collision 

was what is known as a “side-swipe”—that is, 

the circus train stood on a siding, but not far 

a 

enough beyond: the switch, when the passenger 

train rushed by it and hit the other a glancing 

blow. | | 

4 As it was, the penert pete y was damaged, 

































34 "MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGL 


as was the first car, and the next one—that 
which our friends were. But the jar to the circu: 
train had thrown some of the cages off the flat 
cars and broken them. Also a box car, contain- 
ing a number of the elephants, had been. smashed, 
as well as one containing some camels. A few 
: of the animals had been killed. ee” q 
ea “Lively work!” cried Blake, as he and his ; 
eh chum took in the scene. | ‘i 
OR Ves. they're trying to catch ’ em all, g agreed 
oN Joe. “Set the camera here,” and he indicated a 
piece of elevated ground. {CNS A Or a 
The circus men were rushing here and there, 
under the directions of someone who was evi. “ 
dently the manager. Sacred cows, crooked-neck 
camels and some ponies were being caught and 
driven back into one of the undamaged car 
The elephants were seemingly the easiest qi 
handle, though they showed a eT to 
wander. DS IC ea } 





Ue 





Ngo to! 








ss 14 GREAT OPPORTUNITY 35 


was about to take a strol. across the tracks and 
off into the open country. By hard work they 
succeeded in turning him back. A camel showed 
signs of fight, but was subdued. 

_ Joe and Blake were getting a fine lot of films, 
but they had to work quickly, for the circus 
men, with the speed that is characteristic of them, 
were rapidly getting order out of chaos and put- 
ting the animals back in the cars or cages. Where 
the vehicles were damaged the animals were 
doubled up. 


{ A lion cage on a wrecked flat car was being 


eased off by means of ropes and pulley, the tawny 


beast inside giving vent to his displeasure - im 


growls and roars. 

i “Some class to this film; eh?” cried Joe. 

_ “That’s right,” agreed his chum. “I’m sorry 
for the trouble, and for the hurt animals, and 


I'm glad none of the folks was killed, but it 


sure is a dandy chance for us.” 

- “Look!” suddenly cried Joe. “That lion cage 
has gotten away from ’em!” 

_ As he spoke, Blake saw the cage beginning to 
ig rapidly down the planks that had been laid 


to get it from the car to the ground. A rope | 


— broken. 
_ “Hold it!” cried the circus man. 
| «But it was too late. With a rumble and crash 





NAS 








t Shetuction! and ‘the nent iE OE odes over 
on its side. There was a splintering of wood, 
a door flew open, and the big lion bounded out 4 
with a roar of defiance. mie iy 

“Wow!” cried Joe. “T ook at that! ONG ae 
“A great chance!’ exclaimed Blake, coolly. 4 
“We'll film him!’ and he proceeded to. grind 
away at the crank as if he were making views: sof 
a most peaceful scene. BO 
There came a scream from the direction ok ee | 
theatrical car, and Joe, looking, saw a number of : 
ladies scrambling for the doors. The sight of : 
the freed lion had been too much for. them. 
There was a scattering of the circus men, 




















manager. 
“Not for mine! Y replied several. 


Ball 


lan ndlers ‘ 


att! ty pes) ne Ue, Nee} Ki ioe 
f ai and uh 












’ sae 
<2 ’ 





“a es ahs . 
ae him,” went on the ha ee ‘**There 
» harm in King; is dere, olt fellow?” and 





{? 





s is 5 great eae ee ASN. | Beye 
best ever,” asserted his chuim. Pee ee 
> work of caring for the liberated animais — 
on rapidly. Only a few were loose now, oan 
of them dangerous. Still the scene 
rely one, for the railroad men were busy, 
ys made nearly a thousand-foot reel of ” 
amera, captanately, having been eee ei 





















. Just then the circus manager noticed them, and ' 
started in some surprise. 
“What are you fellows eee he asked . 
striding toward them. Y ma, i 
“Filming this wreck,” vemtian Blake, aye 
“Making moving pictures; eh?” i. 
“That’s it,” said Joe, looking to : see how much 
film remained to expose. eae in 
“Did you get that lion deer PO eae 
“We did.” a oe 4 
“Did; eh? Well, you’ve got pluck, all right. — 
I wouldn’t want everybody to know it, but that’s — 
one of the most dangerous lions in captivity. — 
He’s killed several of his keepers, and only this — 
German seems able to manage him. No wonder 
the men held back. And so you filmed him; eh ae 
“Oh, we’re used to thrills,” said Blake, with ae 
smile, as the last of the film was reeled off. — | 
“So I should judge,” observed the circus man. a | 
“Say,” he went on, “I’ve been looking for some — 
ead fellows with nerve, and I guess I’ve found 
’em. How would you like to Bed into the circus — 

business ?” . Bee 
“Pm afraid we can’t ‘consider. it,” dota on it 

_ “We have something else on hand. We leave: for 
Africa in about a week.” ame A Ce iad 
i What for; to get pictures?” ne Pia ah 





er - 2a 





A GREAT OPPORTUNITY 39 


“No, to get my sister, who is a missionary 
helper there.” ; 

“To Africa!’ exclaimed the circus man. “Say, 
this is just the opportunity I’ve been looking for! 
Boys, I’ve got a great proposition to lay before 
you. I'll see you in a little while—just as soon 
as I can straighten things out. Hi there!’ he 
called, suddenly. “Don’t let that elephant hurt 
that camel. Separate ’em, men! Lively there!’ 
and he'’rushed over to where the two animals 
seemed on the point of coming to a clash. 


CHAPTER 
OFF FOR AFRICA 


“WHat sort of an offer do you think he’s 
going to make us, Blake?’ asked Joe, as they 
finished the films of the circus wreck, and began 
taking their camera apart. 

“T haven’t the least idea, unless he wants to 
buy a reel of these pictures to show in his circus; 
and yet I don’t see how he can do that very well.” 

“Oh, if he wants to buy a reel, I suppose we can 
sell it to him, after we run off some positives.” 

“Sure, we're in that business. But let’s get 
back and see what the chances are for moving. 
The wreck isn’t as bad as I feared it was.” 

“No, and a good thing, too.” 

“I sure thought it was all up with us, when 
that crash came,” went on Blake. “It sounded 
like the end of everything.” 

“That’s right. And when Miss Lee yelled 
‘Snake!’ I didn’t know what to make of it.” 

“Thought it was a sort of nightmare; eh?” 

“That’s about it.” 

40 









45 —is ‘there, any more danger, young men?” 
sked a portly gentleman, as Blake and Joe 


ar a. 


nae the car. Bans 


39 


replied eo 

\ ai am on to hear that,” replied the pas 
fs “Ter—was just going out to offer my ue ae 
ces. I used to be somewhat of a hunter, but 






- soon, having ascertained by observation ‘that 4 no 


rapidly. Fortunately, the smash had taken place : 





"42. MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE ca 


animals, save a few horses, were loose, ‘they left, 
taking their women folk with them. 1 arch ele yy aa 
“IT guess they used this car as a sort of haven — 
of refuge, while the animals were loose,’ observed | 
Mr. Hadley, while ake and Joe put aver their : 
camera. | 
“That’s right,” ‘reine Mr. Dene pee i 


_had gone outside to see Joe and his chum operate : 


the machine. ‘That’s why the railroad men bi 
wanted those people to come in here. It’s a steel 
car and safe from attack.” “bie SRA EO a 
“There wasn’t any danger,” declared ‘Blake. | 
“The lion was the only dangerous one, and his _ 
trainer made him as meek as a lamb. It was an 
wonderful exhibition.” thy ane 
“That’s right,” agreed Joe. | “Once tee 4 
hoodoo—of something always happening—seems _ 
to have us in charge. I hope it will keep right on a 
until we get to Africa ah find Jesse i eae 
would be the best luck ever.’ Re keen 
“Indeed, it would,” agreed his father. a 
The work of clearing away the wreck went on 











near a small way station, and men from it, as well 
as inhabitants of a oy town, came out to lend 4 
_ their aid. | cee ae 








OFF FOR AFRICA ian 


train had been hit, a few cars being smashed. Of 
course, the jar and crash, however, had been com- 
-municated all along the length of it. The pas- 


-senger engine was considerably damaged, as was 


the baggage car and the coach directly behind 
“it, but the locomotive could still be used, though 
not for great speed. 

_ Anexamination of the baggage of the fuegtricl 
troupe showed it had suffered only a little, none 


of the moving picture cameras having been - 


damaged. 
Nor were many persons hurt. None was in 
serious condition, and their injuries were dressed 
‘by a physician who chanced to be on the train. 
The first-aid kit carried by the theatrical company 
proved very useful. 
_ As for the circus people, none of them was 
hurt, though some were badly shaken up and 
bruised. A few animals were killed, but none of 
the valuable ones, and soon all that had escaped 
or strayed were safe in other cages or cars. 
“All aboard!” called the passenger conductor, 
after straightening out many tangles and wiring 


on ahead for another train to meet his. The 


theatrical car could be,used, but it was considered 
safer to get another as soon as possible. “All 
‘gyath Ve 


ane that circus man wants to tell us about some 


, 
Be 5 i * 





-moving soon,’ te as Oe ys 
“That's a ” agreed Blake. “ woes w 
he can want us to do? ‘I’m not. going to be . 

circus performer, I give you that ee 
“Me either,” declared Joe.ia 2) | a 
PR: Mr. Stone attached | some import ta 


leaving the finishing of the circus” were ‘ol 
assistant, he hurried t to the theatrical car. i 


Mabou ets 0 Oe i 
~ “Somewhat,” admitted J joes te ia . 
PUY, 


hay iat come to the point at nice,” 
“Stone, 


ae a ny 
nt the cir 
Paes 








OFF FOR AFRICA. 48 


“Thats all right,” said Mr. Stone. “What I 
“have to propose will fit right in with that. You 
_know how to take moving pictures; don’t you?” 
 “Tf'they don’t, no one in the business does!” 
exclaimed Mr. Hadley. “They’re experts at it. 

They can get anything.” 

- “Good! I’m glad to hear it. Do you think 

they could get views of the animals in the jungle 

-—views that would show the animals in their 
native wilds—fighting, feeding at the water holes 
—just as they actually are, undisturbed by man? 
Could they do that?” 

_ “Of course they could!” exclaimed the head 
photographer, while Joe and Blake looked curi- 
ously at each other. 

_ “Then they’re just the very lads I want!” 
exclaimed Mr. Stone. “Listen. For some time 

back I have been considering the showing of films 

: of wild animals of the jungle in connection with 
my circus. I have a big menagerie, as you have 
doubtless noticed. People are always interested 

in animals. 7 
f “Now, if I could fit up a dark tent with my 

Bow and exhibit films of wild animals as they © 

are in the jungle, people could look at them, and 





_then, by stepping into the next tent, they could see | 





the vey animals themselves—at least, some just 














46 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE | 





like those in the pictures. , I think it would make ‘ 


a hit.’ 


“Tt does sound good, ”’ remarked Mr. Ringold, : 


with a theatrical man’s insight into what would | 


please the public. ‘ 


“It’s going to be good!” declared Mr. Stone. — 
“Now, if you boys will make the films, I'll do 
the rest. What do you say; is ita go? I'll pay 
you what’s right, and the only stipulation is that 
‘Iam to have an interest in the films, for we can 


doubtless sell a number of the reels. Will you 
Hdo ibe} 


Joe and Blake hesitated: The idea shen to. 


them. Joe looked at his father. 


“TI don’t see why you can’t do this,” caid Mr. 
Duncan. ‘We have to go to the jungle, anyhow, — 
to find Jessie, and there’s nothing to hinder you~ 


from taking moving pictures. I think you may 


accept the offer.” 


“That’s the way to talk!” exclained Mr. Stone. 2 


“Shall we, Blake?” asked Joe. 
“Tm willing.” 


“Then it’s a go!” cried his chum. Oe , 


_ the best we can for you, Mr. Stone.” 


“Good!” cried the circus man. “Now you’ re. 
going to New York, as I understand it. You'll 
probably be there a week, won’t you, before you 








OFF FOR AFRICA 47 


can Uerolets your arrangements for going to 
Africa ?” 
__ “Probably,” boalied: Mr. Duncan. | 

. “All right. I'll come on before then and look 
you up. I’ve got to go on with the circus for a 
time, and then my helpers can look after it. I 
want to be in New York, anyhow, to see about 
suing the railroad, and that will just fit in. That’s 
all settled, then? You'll get pictures for me of 
the wild animals of the jungle ?”’ 

_ “We'll do our best,” promised Joe and Blake. 
a “Then Pil see you later and arrange details. 
Good-bye.” 

_ “All aboard!” called the passenger conductor 
again, and the train, somewhat crippled, ener 
away from the scene of the wreck. 

_ “Well, what do you know about that?” asked 
Joe of his chum, when they had settled down, 
nursing some minor cuts and bruises. “Isn’t that 
about the limit—filming wild animals in the 
“poe es 
me It sounds strange, but it’s reasonable, I 
suppose.” | 
_ “Tf you got films of the fanatical Tdi I 
don’t see why you can’t get wild animals,” said 
Mr. Duncan. “It can’t be much harder than get- 
ting the wreck in which I came ashore.” 

_ “But it’s more dangerous,” said C. C. Piper, 


{ 





rhinoceros. 
_ back alive! i 


Led. “You are worse than ever, ‘Goon 
“Well, it’s so. They'll have a terrible time. 8 
wouldn’t go for a fortune. New York for mine. 
- We'll probably be dead when we ee Mls ) 
we'll get there.” 7). ! 
Oh go get scene a to eat,”  avivibeel Mr 
Ringold. ‘That may put you in better humor 
“I guess I will,” agreed C. C. “But Vi pro 
ably get indigestion from the fright [ve, had 
~ New York was reached without incident, and 
_the pers went to their ae hots; Mr. ‘Dun 


cisco ole pichire | theatre. ‘n 
Busy days followed, c onsi 
| oy ae sanders to prepare 





OFh POR AFRICA 49 


and made satisfactory arrangements with Joe and 


Blake for taking pictures of wild animals. 


“Mind,” he explained, “I want pictures so that 


- the person seeing them will imagine he’s right on 


the spot looking at the animals eating, fighting, 


or playing about. Don’t let the animals pose for 
you.” 

“T guess there’s not much danger,” said Blake, 
with a laugh. “A wild lion posing would be a 
curious sight.” 

“And one not altogether healthy for the mov- 


ing picture machine and the fellow operating it,” 
added Blake. 


“Well, it’s all settled, then,’ concluded Mr. 


Stone, and a contract was drawn up. 


Good-byes were said to the theatrical com- 
pany—that is, all but Mr. Piper, who, so Mr. 


_ Ringold said, had gone off on a little trip. The 


boys left their farewells for him. 
Then, the arrangements being completed, they 


went aboard their vessel in New York, and soon 


were on their way to Africa, Naples being the 
first stopping: point. 
“Ho! for the jungle!” cried Blake, as he stood 
on deck while the ship went through the Narrows. 
“And for my little sister!’ added Joe, softly. 


CHAPTER VI 


AN OLD D FRIEND 

_ BLAKE and Joe soon made friends ahead ‘the 

ship. They were lively lads, and as soon as" it 

became known they were on voyage to Africa 
they were asked many questions. aan als 

They did not give details of their two quests 

merely saying that they were on their way to set 


t 
‘ 


_Joe’s sister, and, incidentally, t to 0 get views of he 
jungle catia A 


my sister in so many years,” 
was a bit sensitive on the Siew, 
go into too many details about those wild a oe nit 
they'll think we’re faking.” 3 i 
“That’s right,” agreed Bla! hy 
_ The fact that Hee had with them 









Pp a could not be shown. However, the bot 
ft the ava with the captain, who promised 


and Blake spent some e days looking over 
ee. Picture cameras. _ They sai pur- 


consists of a light-tieht ee ee a fens: eh 
~ properly focusing whatever is to be taken. ‘Bae 
of the lens is a sensitized film of celluloid or 
glass plate. When the 1 image has been taken | on. F 
this film, it is se ban ey chemicals, and. when } 
dry a print or “positive” can be made from de 
_ And, for all this mano. itis a ve wonderful 
_ process. 
A, moving picture camera is merely ae 
snapshot camera on a larger scale, except tha 
instead of one ae back of the lens there isa 


- place pene the ical Pera 
A moving picture camera can. Gaon ures © 
a thousand feet of celluloid reel at one f era 
and. as each picture is k aya qt 





AN OLD FRIEND 53 


operator points his camera at whatever he wants 
to show—a speeding train, a man diving, a scene 
in a theatre—anything he wants—turns the 


' handle, and the rest is automatic. 


When the reel is filled with pictures it is de- 
veloped just as you would develop a single plate, 
or film, except, of course, a larger tank is 
necessary. 

_ Many persons suppose that the film that is in 
the moving picture camera is the same one that 
is run through the projecting machine, and 

thrown on the screen. That is not so, otherwise 
_ it would be necessary to take many hundreds of 
- reels of the same scene, to accommodate the many 
theatres. 

The first film taken is called a “negative” and 
is a sort of “master film.’’ Once this is dry it is 
put in an apparatus somewhat like the camera. 
Under the master film, just as you put a piece of 
Sensitive paper under your one negative, is a reel 
of unexposed film. A bright light is placed in 
front, the machinery starts pulling the strip of 
celluloid along, and from the negative any number 
of “positives” can be made. It is these positives, 
with the true relation of lights and shadows, that 
are thrown on the screen. | 

The positive is put on the projecting’ machine, 
an intense electric light is used, again a handle is 


| firued! and ag views, _ aid 
times, are thrown | on the s meh 


_ where a full explanation is given, “with : a: shore 
| Oe, of how moving pictures were discovered. 


Lnocked at the door. 
“Well?” asked Blake, ma aan 

“Tf you please, sir,’ ’ the man announced, ME 
is a friend of yours who wants to see e you.” < 

“A friend of ours?” asked Jon. 
oh OM ese sit. On board here. ‘He bes he's Ss an So 
friend?” | Ay : 
“An old friend? We toc t any old | 


ay on board here,” said Blake, wonderin: | 





AN OLD FRIEND 5s 


“Well, he thinks he is dying—all seasick folks 
do,” replied the steward. “I will take you ‘to 
him,” and the boys, much aaa followed to a 


_ nearby stateroom. 


As they opened the door they heard a familiar - 
voice saying: 

“Oh, why did I do it? Oh, why did I ever 
come? Oh, this is the last of me! Let me see 
my friends before 1 go. Oh, dear!” 

“Listen!” cried Blake. 

“Tf it isnt C. C. Piper I’m an Indian!” 
exclaimed Joe. 

“Yes, look your last on me, boys,” said the 
gloomy comedian, as he raised his head from the 
berth. “I’ma goner!”’ 


CHAPTER VII 
BAD NEWS 
BLAKE and Joe hardly knew whether to believe 


the evidence of their senses or not. To all appear- 
ances there, before them, in a narrow bunk, was 





C. C. Piper, the erstwhile comedian of the the- ~ 


atrical troupe. And yet, as they looked at him 
again, they saw a great change in him. He was 
wan, thin, and pale—altogether ill-looking. 
“Is—is it really him?” gasped Joe. “It doesn’t 
seem : 
“T hardly know,” began Blake, ‘“‘and yet ie 
“It’s me, all right, boys,” answered Mr. Piper, 
and they recognized his voice, weak as it was. 
“His name is Piper,” put in the steward, “and 
he’s down that way on the passenger list.” 








“But I won’t be here long,” groaned C. C. “I 


haven’t much longer to live, boys. That’s why I — 


sent for you.”’’ 


“They all imagine that,” whispered the steward — 


to Joe and Blake. “It’s only a bad case of sea- 


a 


BAD NEWS | 37 


sickness. He’ll be over it soon. The doctor has 
given him some stuff. But they all imagine 
they're going to die, and some of ’em are afraid 
they won't. He will be up eating as hearty as an 


~ elephant soon.” 


miever! cried C. C., gloomily.’ “Il never 
eat again,” but, even as he spoke he seemed to 
have gained a little in hope, since the boys had 
come to see him. Blake decided to solve the 
mystery. | 

“How under the sun did you come here?” he 
asked. “The last we heard of you was that you 
had taken a few days’ vacation.” 

“I decided to take a longer one,” said Mr. 
Piper, his voice growing stronger. “When I got 
away from the theatrical crowd I just couldn’t 
bear to go back. I had some money saved up, 
and the’ idea of doing more moving picture 
dramas was distasteful to me. So I just decided 
to go to Africa with you boys.” 

“Go to Africa with us!” cried Joe. 

“Yes. You won't object; will you? Ill pay 
_ my own way, and I may be able to help you. I 
used to be a good shot, and I have traveled con- ° 
- siderable. I’ve been in India, and shot lions and 
tigers, to say nothing of elephants.” 

“You have!’ exclaimed Blake, with a new 
admiration for the actor. 





a MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE I 





















ek Ves OT know something of big game, though 
not in Africa. Let me go along.” eyo 
DOs “T haven’t any objections,” oe Blake! father 
yh glad, on the whole, that C. C. was along. In 
i haw y Spite of tis See he could be jolly at times. fe | 
ita “Me either,” added Joe. “But how did you i 
happen to come here, and we not know it?? 
“Well, I decided to make it a sort of surprise,” | 
said the actor. “I learned which ship you were 
sailing on, and engaged passage. I asked the — 
purser and captain to keep my name off the list J 
until the last minute, and they did; so you never 
saw it. I intended to keep to my room, or at 
best go out on deck only at night, until we got to 
the other side. I was afraid your father might : 
object,” he said to Joe. bee Ph er 
eee “I guess he’ll be glad to have some one along 
who knows how to shoot,” poate the boy. aac | 
ae and I aren’t much with guns.” ey A Dr, a2) 
(0 “Well? went on CoG) fine storm was 408 
much for me. I was afraid I might die, and I 
wanted to see you before I went. So Leet 
| you; but, I declare, I feel better already.” — 4 
_.  “That’s always the way!” declared the Stowe 
“You had better have something to eat.” 
“Eat! Ugh—er—I think I willl?) ‘cried Mr 
Piper, “It may kill me, but I might as well i 
that way as Sa oa a a a good meal 


















ieee 59 
re ” bade as ibe man left C. C. told the boys 
de had oe ia his ticket, and had 






_ When we come back, after we get 
i AE. ‘eee to Joe, am can take my old 










PS . to (cake some,” Hea’ a, a 


, just wild ee, and perhaps scenes 
ve African natives,” ae bi 


oh Joe’ s father, when it ‘haa been 
, ‘to Phcen ' “In fact, I think he will be an 







fa nter to accompany us, for if we have to 


go int the jungle we'll need the services of a ie 















age. I ‘was thinking of hiring some sort : ie 


. As it is, I think we will have to hire — ! fs 
; | white man—who will know how to a 





60 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE | 


handle the native porters. It will be sei 
to take someone like that with us.’ 

“T wish the time would pass!’ exclaimed Joe. 
“T’m anxious to get into the jungle and film an 
elephant charging, or a lion rushing at us.” 

“Yes, as long as he doesn’t rush too close,” 
put in Blake. “I’m thinking it’s going to be 
ticklish work standing up to a charging lion.” 

The next day Mr. Piper was well enough to 
leave his room. He called on Mr. Duncan, 
apologized for the unconventional manner in 
which he had attached himself to the ayy, and 
was made welcome. 

Then, for several days, nothing was talked of 


but the coming trip into the jungle. Mr. Piper’s 


experiences in India would serve them all in good 
stead, it was felt. 

“The three worst animals in Africa,” he said, 
“are the elephant, lion and rhinoceros. Some put 
the cape buffalo in place of the elephant, and I 
don’t know but what they are right, in certain 
sections.” | 

“How is that?” asked Blake. 

“Because you never can tell what they are going 
to do,” was the answer. “From what I have read 
J should put the rhinoceros down as the most 
dangerous.” 

“Why ?” Joe wanted to know. 


ee ee ee eR gee ee ne 





BAD NEWS 61 


“Because he seems to act wholly without 
reason. You never can tell when one is going to 
rush on you, and the charge of one of the 
ungainly beasts is no joke. You see, their eye- 
sight, like that of the elephant, is very poor. They 
‘depend altogether on their hearing and sense of 
smell, both of which are very acute. Once they 
scent, or hear, what they think is an enemy they 
charge blindly. Their rush, their great weight 
and the ripping power of their horns is enormous. 
_ Natives have been impaled through their hip*bones 
_ by rhinoceroses, and tossed into the jungle to die, 
“merely because they passed by a place where a 
rhino was sleeping. — 

“So you never can tell what they may do. 
You may pass one without the least intention of 
harming it, but it may blindly rush you, and, if 
_ you don’t stop it with a bullet, you are likely to 

be killed. 

“Buffaloes are much the same, but they are less 

erratic. You can more easily figure on what they 
will do. Elephants and lions will seldom charge. 

unless you persistently hunt them. They prefer 

_ to run along and mind their own affairs. Rhinos 
and buffaloes do not. But we'll see what happens 

_ when we get to the jungle, boys.” 

“Oh, I do hope we can get some good pic- 
















ee Bist 
The voyage passed off wittiont incident. ‘They 
made a stop of a few days in Naples, and inspected 
some of the Italian moving picture studios. Of 
late, several Italian firms had entered the business, q 
making elaborate films of historical subjects, and 
Joe and Blake were interested in noting their: 
_ methods. 
“But they all have to come to the: United 
States for one thing,” said Blake, ane a tour 
of one of the largest factories. By 
“What's that?” asked Joe. : AN 
“The perforations in the edges of the hte ie 
which it is moved in the camera or projector. — 
They all have to conform to the standard adopted 
by Thomas A. Edison, when he first Hens ou! 
‘a moving picture.” ie 
This is a well known fact; all Farie Gon 
domestic or foreign, have the same number O: 
perforations per inch, on each side of the film, as 
that adopted by the celebrated inventor of West 
Mahone New Jersey, several hs aEp a Tt ane 












BAD NEWS 63 


From Naples they took another German line 
steamer for Suez, thence to go to Mombasa. 
Now they began to get sight of foreigners other 
than Europeans, for there were both African and 
East Indians aboard, and there were many 
interesting sights. 

Nothing of importance occurred until reaching 
Suez, and there more foreign types were noticed. 
And it was here that they received their first bad 
news. 

They were just about to embark for the last 
stage of their journey, to Mombasa, when Joe 
and Blake came aboard with a copy of an English 
paper printed there. They were idly scanning the 
news, hoping to see something from their own 
land, when Joe uttered a cry, as he stared at a 
certain paragraph. 

“What is it?” asked Blake. 

“Bad news,” replied his chum. “I wonder if 
we can keep this from Dad?” 

He pointed to few lines, which read: 


“Latest advices from Entebbe state that the 
native uprisings at Kargos, a missionary station, 
are more serious than at first supposed. The 
whole missionary settlement was wiped out, and 
the missionaries, a Mr. Brown and his wife, were 
taken into the interior by the natives. It is under- 


64 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


stood that the Home Office will take immediate : 
action, though the missionaries were United ~ 
States subjects. The American consul has nade 


an appeal for help.” 


“That’s fierce!” cried Joe. “That’s where my ‘ 
sister was—at Kargos, near Entebbe. Now she’ S- 


been carried off into Fas jungle.” 


“It doesn’t say so,” spoke Blake, clinging to. 


a last hope. 


“No, but if Mr. and Mrs. Brown have been - \ 
carried off, it is likely that Jessie went with them. ” 


This sure is tough!” 


“What is?’ asked Mr. Duncan, as he ap- © 
proached the lads. Joe tried to hide the paper, F 


but too late. 


Z 





CHAPTER VIII 


i tala nee INTERIOR 


os or not to tell Mr. Duncan what they had 
any Then the realization came to 


gle My poor little girl! ‘But é 
he interior after lass Joe, we'll eed 


























ae - possible! ai 


“That’s what we will!’ ceried the ee 


the missing girl. ‘ ey 
> “And I’m with you!” added Blake, 





and they turned to behold Gs C. Piper. | 
rey “T heard what you said,’ went on the acto 
“Don’t be discouraged. We'll get her, all right. i 
| Those natives may not be half so bad as they’re 
painted, and they may treat your sister his! the 
eu missionaries fairly decent. q 
Mich SWihatid they ate tas jungle? We can follow 
ae them. I didn’t learn to shoot big game for not | 
ing. We'll trek into the interior; the sooner t 2) 

3 Mien It will all come out right yet, you'll: see!” 
This talk, so much in contrast with the w y 

C. C. usually spoke, had its effect. Joe, Bla 
and Mr. Duncan felt more hopeful. - 
“It’s like the time on the beach,” whispe 
ae 









gal S seems that when there's san niece 











PAT LLANE Ma Aah eet AME Ci atten Ry eae Lae ag 

ba Gea 2 t an HY Fade cae aed § Be EE ty a ges 

Sat Vaan tin ; Sa DCA A elite ge A 

hs Ae Rae is Jix\ arias 4 an 
i! K fh. ; PaaS 


OT tr 


INTO THE INTERIOR — 67 














| a an slow progress.” | 
Sy # yet we are apis fairly well,” said C. C. 


1e , as he once more pearined the paper giving 
account of the raid on the missionary station. 
I the fact that my little os may be among 
ther! it 

e will! *icclaed Blake, with a confidence 
d ty altogether feel. “We'll get right 


17? 


it than. at first supposed. “TI think that 
t work can be done by going direct to 


iilee! the Uganda railroad to ie Victoria Whe en 
Crossing that body of water we can get 






















jungle, try to locate the station Be Kargos an 
and then ** began Mr. Duncan. BK 

“‘And then find Jessie!’ interrupted Joe. hy) 
“And we'll do it!” cried Blake. en 
“My idea exactly!” declared C. C. Piper, whol 
Av seemed to show no disposition to revert to his : 
coe original state of gloom. a 
me “T wonder if we'll get any chance to. <make 
moving pictures for that circus man?” mused Joe. — 
“Not that ’'m even going to think about it until 
we find Jessie, but re ee, 
“You'll probably have plenty of chinese . anid 
Mr. Piper. “The railroad journey is five hundred : 
and eighty miles, and we can’t make it all in one” 
(My day. There will be frequent stops, I ese and 
Re on them you can make moving pictures” 
ste “But will there be wild animals near the ra 
road?’ asked Blake. ak aes, 
“There coe will,” ‘declared the ¢ actor. 















for it runs Hiren a big game preserve. 
there is one story of a German hunter hie we 
down on a speciai car on the Uganda railroad 3 
kill a man-eating lion that had been terrorizir 
the natives near one of the line stations, 





Cee 2 hg 











in dow to iiakek for the lion, but fell asleep. The 
a an stretched out on the floor, and the German 


ndow, Baling the body of the Englishman with 
m. I don’t know whether they got that lion 
not but if you think there aren’t any wild — 
Is near the railroad you have another \ 
eae 4 | a 
“Whew!” whistled Blake. “If it’s like that = 
> may get pictures yet.” eal 
i 50,” said Oe, but even this thought eh 








HY Aion Tt | ig an ancient African city, and 
pes and their companions found many — 






















70 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN ‘TH. JUN E 
Wey) to be fitted out for a trip into ithe eee The; 
ae had, besides their personal baggage, their movin 
__- picture cameras, and a considerable quantity ¢ ° 
(Seti, ; 
“And now, since we Lay we may have a bret 
Mh “with the natives,” said Joe, “we'll have to ‘Be 

eo. oarms.. 
nes “Yes, indeed,” agreed uh) C “And I want a 
aaa heavy hunting rifle. I’m out after big. game, 
though it may get me——. Oh, I don’t mean 
that!” he cried hastily. “I’m going to try not to” 
be gloomy on this trip,” and he ‘smiled: reas- 
ee suringly. | | ee 
ee Our friends were fortunes Te to , obtain 
maki the services of a veteran hunter and guide, ‘a 
Sergeant Hotchkiss, who had fought in the Boer | 
war. He agreed to accompany them into the 
_ interior, and to arrange for a soon oh once na 
reached Lake Nyanza. Be ee 
“But you had better bargain. fon your prov : 
sions | and ie we he said; “that is, ae 












INTO, THE INTERIOR 71 


“Off for the jungle!” cried Blake, as they 
pulled out of the station. “Into the interior.” 

“For Jessie and the wild animal pictures,” 
added Joe. “But it’s Jessie first!’ 

“That’s right!’ cried his father. 


CHAPTER IX 


THE SAFARI 


s 


THE queer ae } coaches, | pa 


“But you'll ie: find, ‘i een Serg at 
ohies: Pele pardonable pride 4 in AS nation’ si 

__- progress, 

au, mere. : 

Poo hats) tight.” aarect E Blake. 


| came to think of a railroad stally veing 


so 


“The British government," is tae yn tl 





‘ beh CouGe ashe 
had 


fold on! te ead Mr. in ee ah a smile. fle 


ot sade 1? antic C Gi Ns more hae ie 
| sit I forget, remind me of it.” a 





tain game becomes so numerous and so bold. that 
it is taken off the protected list and classed as 
vermin, when anyone is allowed to shoot at will. 
Often here the buffaloes and hippos are so styled, 
- for the latter often come in from the lakes and — a 
rivers and destroy the natives’ crops. And it 
has happened that the buffaloes get so bold that 
- they attack on the least, and often without be 
provocation.” mint 
It did not take long for the train to reach a 
wild part of the country, passing through what 
would be a jungle, except that it was reclaimed 


to civilization by the railroad line. On either side 
of the rails, a short distance away, it was a real 
jungle, teeming with bird and animal life. 
It was on the afternoon of the second day, ar 
the boys had Ase their moving etn camera ‘i 


had said, until wie got farther into” the ae 
for the most they had glimpsed were big bird 
and a hyena or two, the latter slinking off at tt 
‘i approach of the train before they could be filme: 
SHetey the engine eae to slacken speec 





| fee “We did hit one aye and damaged 
le engine so we couldn’t go on. But I don’t 
- that’s the case now. However, we'll. take 


“hey piled out of the coach. It was hot, and 
ture hung in the air. There was a deadly 
pr siite odor—a cae. smell. Great ferns — 


ie friends with the boys | “Its an odd Me 





































case, and if you lads had been here with your 4 
cameras you'd have had a fine chance for a picture. — 
N othing less than a AB: knocked our ran 4 


the poadiclyk was tinea oe him. 
““That’s it. You can see his hoof marks where 
he passed over the railroad. His head was so- 
high that his neck probably hit the wire, and, as 
neither the wire nor the neck would break the” 
pole had to. Yes, take my word for it, a giraffe 
broke down the line, and we'll be held up until it q 
can be fixed.” 4 
“How long will ase be?” asked athe an idea 
coming into his head. 
“Qh, several hours, maybe.’ r ll have to ead a 
man back on foot to the next station to have a 
lineman come out. I don’t dare take the chance 
of proceeding without orders, for there is NO 
telling ea a special met come along and run 
into us.’ 
“Then, if we’ve got several hours,” cried : 
Blake, ‘‘can’t we go off into the jungle and on 
for some pictures ?” 
“Great !’’ exclaimed Joe. 
“I think you might,” 
- “Don’t go too far, though. 












deciding to stay in the train. 
? 


‘I do hope we stir up a lion!” exclaimed Blake, 


Biaalces! 13 * eee 
“Are they around beret? asked Joe, thinking 
g Ba he had heard of these savage creatures 


ses te ois. 
Pde ae in 6 
een Te Sy 

? ej 


“Here you are, boys!” 
Joe and Blake pressed ewe and, comin 
suddenly into a ‘sort of glade where the grass 
grew tall, they saw a score or more of the ig 
cape buffaloes. Some were lying down, othe ‘S$ 
standing up, and some feeding, while one big bull. 
seemed to be on guard. The wind was blowing 
from the creatures to the boys—the man-odo 
would not carry to the animals. et 

“If we can get a little nearer we can film them,” 
whispered Joe. 

“Go ahead,” counseled Blake, and ‘they stot 
forward with one camera. | a 

“Plucky lads,” observed the sergeant, add 
miringly. | ie ( } 


his gun. Perhaps he wished for a “aan 
use it. tf 


theal the smell they needed, and i they | 
warily and ssi nh , 
| “Look out! 













WE GAY ie ie 
; ¥ ih Ah iC 5, ia: ras 
y ~ sf 





aga and this was just what the a 
for moving pictures that do not move 
much of a success. Then the one bull, 


ae out!” cried Hic sergeant. “Run! A a 
irdly had he spoken than the whole herd was ys. : 
‘in motion, but the lads, far from running, stood © 

ground. — ti 
ai This is just what we want!” cried Joe. “It 











{?? 


me on!” fairly screamed oe oe for; os 
the terrible power of the buffalo’s horns. 
1ess we've got enough,” cried Blake. | 
he es aS and r ll take the camera !” 






an 7 Ai a Pe aaices were coming on, 










or whether the herd did not like the cana of | 
gun, was not made manifest. At any rate, th 
stopped, and, after waiting a moment, they 


wheeled around and retreated—that is, all’ but 
the big bull. He had been Killed Ce 











regretfully. As the sent buffaloes deena 
the boys walked up to look at the creature. ‘Truly 
he was a large and fine specimen, and they. te : 
some pictures of it to finish out their film. {= 
They went on for some distance farchen 
saw nothing worth taking. Then the engin | 
whistle blew, and they started back. On th 
return they passed a water hole, and fror 
screen of bushes some views were taken of sm 
animals, including some gazelles, coming to dr nk 
“Well, that will do far a starter,” anno nee 
Joe, as they neared the train, 
“Pretty aueek too,” | ‘declared Blake, 






















% elegraph line had been repaired, and 


ti d off once more. Nothing more of interest 
tred that day, though on the next the boys 


eros, as it waddled along the track for some 
dis om The engine eae to enable the 


eed part GPiout journey, ” said Mr. 
mincan to the boys. “Once we are across the 
4 e, we will be far from civilization, in the heart _ 


ers to proceed having been received they. 























“Tl see about that, ” said Sértaae Hotchtc | 
They remained at Port Florence several days, ; 
and on the morning of the fourth they heard 
confused sounds outside of their stopping plac . 
“What’s that?” cried Joe, as he got up to lo 
“Sounds like a minstrel chorus,” said Blak 
“It’s our native prey} .; cried his chum. : 
“T ook! ke a Bard ee te 
As they peered from their window they saw 
score of almost naked savages—black as coals— 
| with only blankets on, their ears heavy with all 
ae a sorts of ornaments, from empty tin cans to bis 
bones, sticking in the lobes, their hair plastere 
with mud, carrying long spears, or sticks, and. all 
going through a sort of dance, Spatans. the ih 
in a strange tongue. _ ce ae 
“For the love of cats, what is that?” ei 
C. C., as he joined the boys. “Have they con 
to eat us? Are they cannibals?” 
“Indeed they are not,” said Mr. Hotehk 
who entered the room at that moment. “Thos se 
_ are the porters I have engaged to take us oa 
our baggage into the interior of the jungle. T | | 
ae ae will form our expedition. In Africa you can’t 
: get along without them. They are all fine | 
lows, I assure you, and faithful, You can trust 
- them with your lives.” anaes UA arte 
“Well, they don’t look $0," os ” spoke Cea 





























THE SAFARI 83 


pointed to one gigantic black, who looked par- 
ticularly hideous with the skull of a hyena 
fastened on top of his head. 

“He sure is the limit,” agreed Joe. 

“And his name is Happy One,” said the 
sergeant. “Come down, and I’ll introduce you to 
them.in form.” 

“And are they the natives who are to lead me 
to my daughter?” asked Mr. Duncan. 

“They are,” said the sergeant, gravely. “And 
if they can’t do it, no one can.” 

“But they will!” cried C. C., in his new, jolly 
manner. “We'll find her, all right!” 


"suggested Blake. : i a 
| “That's Hight, i“ agreed his chum, oy 


We wouldn’t ae dangerous chapels : 
: _ “Indeed no,’ ek in Mr. Dunes an. : : 


i 


» and he assured me bd would only y eet sh s | 



















pat 46 BIG RISK Sr 


We “pe 'S talking and laughing with them,” 
ot on the actor, “and they seem jolly enough. 
ook at Happy. One, as he is called—the chap 
ith the hyena skull on his head. -He’s doing a 
sular two-step.” 

‘And lots of them are - singing,” observed 
ke, as the notes of a strange and rather weird 
nt came to them. | 

“By Jove, I know what I’m going to do,” 
declared Joe. 

a “What: >” asked his chum. 

Ee m going to make some moving pictures of 
m. They will go well as a sort of introduc- 
ae the views of wild animals we may get.’ 
Blake agreed with this, and while Mr. Duncan > 
s being formally presented to the porters as 
ipa head of the safari (it being decided 














helt shields.” iy uy 









, “Oh, most of tes vel ‘been one ‘s a 
before,” explained the sergeant, as he heard ‘this, 
_ “They have been with white men, some of whom 
hunted, while others took pictures, and, though 
the camera is much of a mystery to them, thi 
don’t mind it in the least. But what do yeu think 
of them?” oe 
— *An odd lot,” was Joe’s opinion, as he c ceased 
- grinding at the handle of the camera.” 
“Can you trek them?’ asked Blake. ms 
“I think so,” said the former soldier. “ 
course, human nature is the same the world ove 
Some of the men are what are called ‘mission’ 
boys—that is, they have been Christianized, after 
a fashion. They are very Ont The others can 
also be trusted, I think. a Aes ANS 




















_ clash with the tribesmen Gite. may “have ‘ 
daughter?” asked Mr. Duncan. aC 
“I have explained,” said the sergeant, 
- there may be a fight.” ale 

“What did they say? asked. the at X10U: 
father. \ : ° ee 
“They gave the bout answer ae : 
sharpened their a and donk gs to 













ne **Then it’s” all right,” ond Mr. 
ek relieved tones. We can’ 't get Jessie 








: white n men, ye: will fave to depend on the ee 
a we take with us. But are we ready to 










Bee ad: we all our Shee rvasked: C..C, ” mitts a ye 
n’t want to starve—oh, of course we won't. eo 
ste ve! ’ he added, hastily. “I am getting into — 

3 ny old habits,” and he laughed. | ae 
_ “Everything is in readiness,” answered the | 
seant, who had looked after all the details. “pit 












across the Victoria Nyanza in about an 


ea 
° 











Then began a busy time. Each porter wasto 
rry a load of about sixty pounds. Thisisfound 
be as much as a man can march with, day after 
, Otten: without water or food, and over all 
he dis were Gnade up re various objects— is 
1, supplies of different kinds, ammunition for ae 
e rifles and revolvers, some medicines, and, of Ae 











Tents ‘were carried, to fattora' shelters at Ft 


1 


et ough it is gael hot during “5 pincan 


a part of the United Sate ‘Often, it j is possible 


to camp in sight of mountains whose summits i 


to have all in readiness to SNe Confulnee later 
_ “Happy One,” who spoke considerable English, 
was made the head porter, and it was easy to see ~ 
that the selection pleased him. The others, too 
seemed to take to him, and it was Hones) the 
would be no trouble. ‘ 

There were few passengers on the eead © bd 
which our friends were to make the ate actos 
the ‘northern part of the lake. : 

“Tt doesn’t seem as if we were in the beset: of ; 


| t Africa,” remarked Blake, on the afternoon 


embarking. “Here we are, ona fairly comforta 
steamer, on a big haley and with almost unknoy 


a inci all about us. 


ee Think Ea toere can 
« “T am thinking of it, Bake” was Mah 
te “but while it is ine still we ve be . 













ee in the midst AE some aa jungle! 1? 
t t is tough, Joe. But don’t give up hope yet. 
7, even C. C. goes ahead of you these days. 





y ee he is, and I mustn’t give way to my 
fears,” went on & oe. i won 't—that! 8 all! Now 
s reed this view.’ , 






Reick Their baggage had been put away, 
the native porters, in their section of the 


onda games, at the engines of the boat, or r gaze 
: \cross the stretch of waters. 


an auine for a day or - two. | os 
could film pquerines a i 


eave some goods for an Ease who h 
started an ostrich ranch there. It was in rath 
a lonely spot. There was no dock for. ‘th 
‘steamer, and the goods had to ‘be taken ashor : 
‘in small boats. 7 


Africa is a strange place: Youn may stir up ae 


i 


when you least expect it.” UY 
wh Gets try suegetice Jee | and his e m 
agreed. \ Narnia 24 

lg go along, and see ‘if 1 can get a a sh | 
ene, said Cc Cc. | 
Services.’ 





ho oe eae A OAL aetna Mite Seed 
Pas Peers ite har 












 “Let’s try that,” suggested Joe. Abd too open : 
ere to get anything. Let’s go where it’s wilder.” 
-—“Tt’s wild enough here!” exclaimed Blake, a | 
| “Tittle later, when they were rowing along, hardly 
{ able to move from the number of lily pads on the 
| "surface of the stream. The lilies themselves, 
“great yellow and white blossoms, were all about, 
amid the broad green leaves, on top of which 5 ee 


“Ves, it is wild,” Teed Joe, “but I don’t see 
png to make pictures of, and— # 





‘sort in coughing groan just ahead of them. 
rd ‘here was a stir among the lily pads. The water | 
¢ wirled, and up from it heaved a black, bulky — 















{?? 


‘A Re ereeeoiis cried Joe. “Hurray! i 
Something to film at last! Row us toward it . 
4 f you don’t mind, C. sane Rea ‘ 
t ae pene. a ee risk, ” said the actor, sol- 


ch emnly. 
ne chance! 


7 


“ness, bent to the oars. 
camera handle. 


ine open, iowa a ue expanse ‘of red, 
“ong and igh aie teeth mit it. | 





- CHAPTER XI 


“FORWARD!” 


ET’S get out of this!” cried Mr. Piper. 


ell crush this boat with one bite!’ Bi si 
‘I guess you're right,” agreed Joe. “Let’s _ 


r to shore, Blake. I’ve heard they can’t go 
ast on land!” — qi ie 


he ‘Blake was not rica, but He! really 
“not understand the ok of the hippo as 


would ip allright! He's afraid of us!) | 
a on’t ee believe, it!” shouted Cc. C., as hei, 





a ane take us all in at one bite! ie 
hippos!’ | 

But Joe, imbued with sonnets of ihe reck 
less courage displayed by his chum, held his place 
at the moving picture machine, as. did. Blake 
Together they revolved the handle, making view: 
of the swirling waters where the hippo had dis: 
- appeared—bubbles, foam and little swirling eddy 
showing where the big river-horse had sunk. | 
“What do you think, Joe?” asked Blak 
“Shall we chance it any longer?” 

“T'think so. He doesn’t seem as bad as C. C 
thinks he is. Anyhow, he went down witho 
attacking us, and he may pass us up altogether 
If he does, we’ll get him running away, and that 
_ will make another good Re of ie ae Let's 
eeistick fey) yet, i 

“That’s what I say. It isn’t every ay we o 


| a chance like aie If we had—— 


AY __ stems sd flowers. 
_ arose amid them. 

























Tere he is again! yp ied Blake. 
Yes, and he means business, too!”’ yelled Tee ) 
*C,, it’s up to you to do-something! We 

aven’t time to row ashore.” | stil 
This was very evident, for the hippo had, this, 
me, risen so close to the boat that the boys ery: 
ought they could feel his hot breath. The mon- 
ous mouth was wide open, and the red throat, : 
looking like some immense flannel bag, seemed 
rawning for them, The hippo could easily have — 

crushed the boat amidships, a there was no time i: 
back water. oS ! te 
“Shoot! Shoot!” yelled wee $ | cae 
pa euess Jl’ have to! cried C.'C. Piper; “but; 9 4. 
Psa last hope. — T can’t oop him at such eS 1 


He Ce itecl ie oars ad alien up the heavy... 7 5 
le hant gun. Even in this excitement Blake con- Me 
inued to grind away at the camera, getting some ve 
ws at close range. Then, thinking that the = 
oat would be crushed, and wishing to save the 
achine and the rare films if possible, he caught = 
p the apparatus and fled to the stern, Page Ted 
h apne a clear view. 










am On. ee ee then he lake the enormous 6 ve 
+2 i 


aws with a ‘crunching sound, and at such oe 


when it was closed the water splashed out _ be 
sides in miniature fountains. ce 
“Shoot, if you’re going to, C. C. y velied 10 4 
“Here goes for a slim chance!” cried bo 
Piper. 
At that moment the big eae: again eee ; 
_ wide his jaws. He was but a few feet from the. 
boat now, and the wave of his advance caused 
the craft to rock dangerously. 
Aiming directly down the big red throat, C. c. a 
fired. The report of the heavy gun at such close 4 
quarters almost deafened the boys, and the recoil 
nearly tossed the hunter daibincne. oie het main : 
tained his balance. ae 
Joe and Blake eagerly looked shee the hippos 
had been. There was no need of waiting for the 
smoke to clear away, as the actor-hunter was 
using nitro cartridges, which were smokeless, 
“He’s gone!” shouted Joe. ane * 
“He sank at the shot!” cried Blake. ‘ 
“I guess I did tickle his throat some,’ 1 penta 
Mr. Piper, grimly. ‘That was a heavy bull 
and it must have gone clear through him.’ 
wt wonder if you killed him?” d aed 
























nage “FORWARD! vt 


n Abbe yuerber ‘mortally or not, sinks imme- 

diately. If it is dead it won't float for nearly a 
day, and we can’t stay here that long. If he’s 

only wounded he’ll swim off under water and 

me up, the land knows where. No, we're 

lucky to be rid of him so easily. I never thought 

I could stop him at such short range, but the bul- 

let must have gone in a tender spot.” 

_ “Well, we got some dandy pictures,” spoke 

Blake, fervently. ; 

_ “That’s what,” agreed Joe. 

\ distant whistle was heard, echoing ly 

r the sluggish river. 

_“That’s the steamer calling us, I guess, 

. ae “Let's a back. te 


39 


said 


A was over, almost forgetting it. 
Don’t tell Dad all about it,” suggested Joe to 
chum. “He may think it was worse than it 
os was, and not let us go out again. He 


The tine ne the ieee was Coon 
and once more the trip across the Yake was ae 


| bind there were ious delays for reraieo! “So fe 
they were three days gre the paet 


were seen on the aa . fe 
“Think of that—in Africa!” Hie ee an 
“T’ll be looking for a sign of Broadwa ‘ 
__ Forty-second recs soon,” ’ said Blake. , 


said Seon Hotetiise: 

_ with the notion that this town is ws ; 
the jungle. It isn’t. ‘Why, on the it 
wild animals come a Herds of zc 


beds. 


oo CO 




















d that on going out to ona the evening fe 
n always take guns. They might have to use 
n a rhino or something coming home.” 
“Really?” asked Mr. Duncan. 
*‘That’s a fact,” the sergeant assured him, and, 
my readers, I might add that all the essential er 
cts given in this book, both as regards the wild 3 
animal life of Africa, as well as the making of - 
ving pictures, are true, and can be verified by 
se who care to do so. - 
In the native part of Entebbe dwelt the young 
ng of Uganda, and the boys had a chance to — 
‘e some moving pictures of him and his court, 
me of the attendants at which had adopted Me / 
ropean dress, while the others wore nothing ae 
ta blanket. Even the king was still enough = f 
a barbarian to delight in the beating of many er 
ams, though he had an English tutor. — 
gins is too civilized for us,” remarked Blake 










That’ Hed Blake. We ought to be in the 
e. But I guess we’re almost ready to. trek 


3) 


s ting impatient. 





e: 


ig “wel dee Yommocruat boys” 
- geant Hotchkiss that night. 
supplies we need now. I have eae a 
_ more porters, gotten some more ammunition, a: 
we can now head for Kargos. What we'll fin 
_ there, of course, I don’t know,” and he loo 
serious. . ee, 
“The best I hope for,” said Mr. Duncan, : 
to get some trace of my daughter. If the m 
sionary station is wholly os there ee ? 


aol to learn Christianity, ma 
and can aid are 


“I hope so,’ > murmured Blake, a a sighe 
_as he nodded his head 1 in ep 


janele: It was some diate back ‘fee the i 
and inhabited by several asi and warlike tr 


% et ft) 


Y Duncan—seemed to have completely sa oe 


























P i WARD: pre 





ve, no one knew, though all yes for the 
oa alternative. 
The last arrangements were ise The por- 
ters’ burdens were packed anew, the last supplies 
: vere, bought, guns and ammunition looked to, 
and, one puny morning, the word to start was 
given. 3 
Horses had been provided for the Aes and 
e or two mules carried the heavier burdens; ; 
t all would have to accommodate their pace to 
: march of the porters. However, these men 
. iron frame and constitution could cover many 
niles in a day. eee 
Quite a number of the residents ot Entebbe 45 ae 
ime to see the expedition start, as word of its itm 
xject had leaked out. There was much sympathy => 
pressed for Joe and his father, and all hoped ey 
y would find Jessie. ae 
“All ready?” cried ‘Sergeant Hotehicias: as be a 
ked over the line of porters with their loads 
their heads. 
‘Ready! ’ cried Happy One, ‘the leader, as hela ee 
ed about, his fantastic headdress of a hyena’s 
‘bobbing up and down. He had removed it 
m his crown, as it did not fit in with the plan 
arrying a burden, and it was suspended about 










by the beating of the tom-toms. some carried, 
Gs party started into the jungle, 










CHAPTER XII 


AT THE BURNED STATION 
“Wer, Joe, oes ie you tilte it?” 
“TI don’t know, Blake. It’s a heap-sight dif- 
ferent from camping out on our Western plains.” 
ee a1, should say so!” exclaimed C. C. Piper. aes c 
ere’s one inch of me that hasn’t been bitten a o | 
yme of these ticks, I’d like someone to point it 
out. i: is know Tl never get back alive to fi 
“Hold on there!” cried Blake, with a , laugh, 
“I thoughi you'd given up all alt sort of tine ae 
since coming to Africa.” ee) Hi 
“So I have,” answered the hunter-actor. ie i e 
for got myself. for a moment. At the same time, 
ose ticks do bite; but I suppose it had better ee 
lem than a pao and he Apne to apply 


tf 





























De Ripka sd 


suggested Suiveant Hotchkiss. a 
““How was that?” asked Mr. ly Piper. . . 
ee the Irishman put up at a hotel i in: som 


over the bed. He didn’t know exactly wiiatl 
was for, but he managed to solve the probler r 
his own satisfaction at least. In the morning t e 


ed hotel clerk asked him how he slept, also inqui 


a. in peace and mies 


if the Laie: bothered him see much. ts 


inspiration. He said Ae tore a hole | in » the me 
net’ over his bed. ASS 
. ous, and all the mosguitoes went in oth .” he 


Ried 


949 aS yay 









| AT THE BURNED STATION oe 


_ ters were fresh, and had made good time. Mr. 
_ Piper was lucky enough to shoot a big eland, and 
_ this furnished meat, which the’ white travelers 
were almost as glad to partake of as were the | 
e blacks.’ | 
The boys had tried several times to get moving 
_ pictures of some of the herds of «wildcbeest or 
 hartebeest, a species of antelope, and also the 
numerous gazelles, the Thompson variety, known 
locally as “Tommy’s,” and also the Grant. But 
_ they had been unsuccessful from various causes. 

| Sometimes, just as they got ready to begin grind- 

ing away at the film, having placed the camera 

at some water hole, or stream where game came 

to drink, the clicking would frighten the timid 

creatures away. 

Or the deer would scent some animal! that they 
dreaded—a lion or leopard, and would gallop off 
before Joe or Blake could get the desired films. 

| Then, if they waited for the more powerful 
y animals to appear, something might frighten 
: them off, and so the opportunity would be lost. 
“But we'll get ’em yet,” said Joe. “I’d rather 
get some of the wilder or bigger animals, if we 
ip cogs instead of these deer-like creatures, any- 
how.” 
ae “Oh, welll get em all in time,” declared his 


z 


+= 








Pi aes on He cavaneee as ee were, they 
rested in shade if they could find it, or under 
their tents. At night they would seek out. ‘so: 
ae near water, tether their animals, raise { 


provisions they had browne with them, | or a 
what game Mr. Piper or the sergeant Shot Ae 
Occasionally the boys. themselves, under the 


Aa : rn GMine sight,” Pe ne . 
aby looked from the tent where all the whit es sl pt, 


xen 









) STATION — 


i throwing fein? ant bold relief. ene y 
ne, who ee resumed his ae skull head- 













‘ The smell of cooking was in the air, for the | A 
aaa ce aay never seemed to tire of eating. 








sew “nt sure is strange,” agreed Boke as he tonite ‘ 
on the. scene. “Getting the films of the Indians 
_ was nothing to this.” ie eee 
es “But we haven’ t got many films as yet” aaa “| ie 
















EN; ae we will,” said his chum. “We wily i 

soon be at Kargos, and then 5 . 
a “Then we may find some trace of Sister Jessie,” | 
id Joe, ina iow voice. “I only hope we do.” 
They talked for some time longer, and. then i 
turned over and tried to go to sleep. It was not _ 
sy work, Their surroundings were strange, 
and they were not as comfortable as they might 
le ve been, though they had brought all the con- es 
veniences they could with them. : 
‘ven at that, with the chattering of baboons - dy 
in the distance, the eke of the wild fowl | fi 





vA 































5 


7 iyhiating and beans off ee at th 
there was enough disturbance: to fal 
_ bigger camp awake. — | | ‘ ‘ 


came a ON. alarm. From aie syaane xe 
noise like thunder. It rumbled and roared, a 
the boys sat up on their Stn ain Cots. 31% ay 
Hey ico What is it? cried. Joe: . on 
is storm,’ Bah ai his chum. 


had esuBhE the words of the frightened porters 

They all turned out with ace guns, while th 
- fires blazed brightly. from. the wood thrown ol 
by, the natives. But i noise died ot in ‘the 












“We'll get it Bie 
turned in. 4 
eTrhe next day broke hot and Lay. Be i 1 








|“ AT. THE BURNED STATION 109 


It was hard work, but the porters, under the 
_ “jollying” of Happy One, did not seem to mind 
i it. C. C., too, seemed to retain his good spirits 
and made no direful predictions. 
But Mr. Duncan, no less than Joe and Blake, 
‘was anxious to get to the place where, according 
to reports, his daughter had last been. They ques- 
tioned many native tribes, as they went along, 
and were told that the mission station was still 
r many miles farther along. 
_ “And when we get there, what will we find?” 
asked Joe, and there was anxiety in his tone. 
“Maybe not as bad as we have heard,” said 
_ Blake, encouragingly. | 
And so they traveled on. Lucky it was that 
_C. C. and Sergeant Hotchkiss were along, for on 
them devolved the work of keeping the camp in 
meat. The boys did their best, but they had not 
had the experience, nor the practice in bringing 
down big game. But the former soldier and the 
_ actor-hunter were sharp on the trail, and brought 
_ down many a lusty buck of the antelope species, 
occasionally getting a giraffe, or some smaller 
animal good for food. Everything was grist that 
came to the mill of the Africans, though the 
whites were more fastidious. Though even with 
_ the most unprepossessing animals there were some 
ie oe for food. 








a 


“Welt, 1 1 ee what well trike 


| ce so troublesome. | i 
“More moving pictures, Bs “hope” ‘said he 
chum. 


| “We are getting near the aliee she 
"sister was,’ "went on Joe, in a low voice. } “Ha 


‘we Se Hate it. I wonder hat welll find th 
‘ we can only pick up some clue— 
as course we will, "i sa in C. c che 2 









_ AT THE BURNED STATION IIft 


“A lion, maybe,” added Blake. ‘Get the 
camera ready.” 3 
“That isn’t an alarm,” said Sergeant Hotchkiss, 


quietly. 


‘What is it, then?’ asked Mr. Duncan. 
“They are singing a song of lament—of sor- 


-_row,’’ was the answer. 







Se ee ee ee ee A ae = — 


A chill struck to the hearts of the boys, as they 
pushed forward. What would they see? | 

“Tt must be the station where—where Jessie 
was,” said Mr. Duncan, brokenly. “If there are 
any of the mission people left they may be able 
to——” 

But he did not finish. Accompanied by the 
boys he made a turn in the trail which brought 


him to the little clearing where the mission had 
been. But the station was gone. 


It had been destroyed, and nothing but a fire- 


blackened area marked where it had stood. There 


were the ruins of the buildings, and of the charred 


huts occupied by the natives from whom an 
attempt had been made to lift the darkness of 
- ignorance. All was gone! The little church was 
- burned—nothing but a pile of charred timbers. 
3 The raiders had done their work well. 

The song of the African porters seemed to 
become more and more melancholy. They felt 
_ for their white employers, for the story of the 


j 


112 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


search for the daughter of Mr.. Duncan was 
known to all. 

“Nothing left!” exclaimed Mr. Duncan, and 
he placed his hand on Joe’s shoulder. “Not a 
trace. Oh, my poor Jessie!” 

There was silence for a moment, and then 
C. C. Piper, who had gone forward, uttered a 
cry—a cry of joy, it seemed. 

“What is it?’ asked Blake, eagerly. “Have 
you a clue?” 

“T think I have, and a good one, too!” replied 
the actor-hunter. 


ae a ae tne 





Can ®): et bole i ot i ea ee ee 
(ENS TS a ea 
em ny ur try.” 


, 
x 
P 

j 
a 

Ly 
i 
a 

E: 

2 

: 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE LION HUNT 


rT a nee 
7 “ 


_ Crowpinc around Mr. Piper they all tried at 
once to look at what he had picked up. It was 
something covered with dust and ashes—some- 
thing swollen with the rains that had fallen—a 
strange, misshapen thing, that seemed to be a 
‘book, and yet which might have been almost 
anything. 
“What is it?” cried Joe.’ 
_ “Ts it any message from my daughter?’ de- 
-manded the former sailor, as with trembling 
hands he reached for it. 
- “Tt’s a small Bible,” said C. C., as he examined ; 
‘it “But there is some writing on the first page.” 
Blake, feeling that this was too sacred a 
; [@oment for him to intrude, held back, as did 
‘Sergeant Hotchkiss. Joe and his father took the 
little book, which had almost lost semblance to_ 
‘itself. 
“It isa Bible, 7 spoke Joe, softly. 


113 
























Duncan, as che scanned the aie eae ; 
page. “It is a gift from Mr. and Mrs. Bro 
Oh, how glad I am that I Hats this ieneee 
my little girl. If only | 

“There’s more writing there, Dad!” Bee 
Joe, as he looked over his father’s shoulder 
“And it’s in a different hand from the othe 

Could Jessie have written that?” — a: 
_ Anxiously Mr. Duncan scanned it. ‘Then 
cried out: | 





hers. She appears to hae written a messag ts 
Blake, your eyes are better than mine. See if 
you can make anything of this,” and. he hand : 
over the book. No wonder his eres were di fe “ 

the tears made them so. A 
saan Blake scanned the title page of t 









they were so as Soh 
“Try this!” dacclatnie oy ci. holt a u 

pocket reading glass. “It will magnify ae our 
Once more Blake looked. Braun cu 

oi is a message, 5; he said. be seems | 





























THE LION HUNT © 115 


‘surprised, as were the others, by the raid. She 
only had time to leave a hasty message, and, there 
being no ink, she dipped a sharp stick in a mixture 
of water and ashes, and left her message that 


_ “It does seem so,” admitted Sergeant Hotch- 
kiss. “Can you read it, Blake?” 

_ Slowly Blake spelled out the scrawled words: 
| **To—-any-—’ ” he began, “‘to any who 
-come—after. We have—been carried away by the 
inatives—to the——’ “It looks like ‘south,’ ”’ 
said Blake. “It’s so blurred.” 

| : _“That’s ‘south,’” was Joe’s opinion, as he 
looked over his chum’s shoulder. “T hey took ’em 
4 south, és 

oe ‘We have been vied off to the south,’ ” 
ead Blake. “ ‘Help us if you can. I think they 
‘mean to hold us for ransom.’ ” 

q “Thank the dear Lord for that!” breathed Mr. 
‘Duncan, “Now let’ s start ‘at once. Off to the 
south, to rescue my daughter! Sergeant, ask 
these natives what they know of the tribes south. © 
‘Are they friendly ? Will they give up Jessie? 
‘Tl spend my last dollar for her recovery!” — 
The sergeant paused a moment. . 
‘We must go slow,” he said. “I must think - 
about this. I will have a talk with papey One. 
2 is a wise old native.”’ 


oo € 
































Mr. Duncan was all for sane One at a | 
but the others persuaded him to wait and so mal 
a better and more detailed plan. ? 
camp was made near the burned missiona 
station. 

It was evident that the friendly natives at t +n 
little village, and the missionaries, had been su aa 
prised by the warlike Africans. Whether an 
had been killed could only be guessed at. Ce 
tainly the station had been pillaged, and some 
the inmates, if not all, had been carried off. The 
Bible hastily written in and tossed aside by Jessi 
in the hope that someone would find it, We s 
evidence enough. a 

And the trail seemingly led south, ee 
her clue, though when Happy One was appeal 
to he declared that only friendly natives dw 
there—natives who were inclined to Christianit 
and who would never think of raiding a missi Or 

“But some of the more warlike ones may h 
come from there,” insisted Mr. Duncan. Hs Le 
we should search to the south.” 

And so, the next morning, in spite of thal adv 
of Happy One, they trekked south. It was 1 
less to look for clues, but there seemed to. 
sort of rough trail leading from the station 
the southward, and this was ea 








THE LION HUNT 117 


fraught with danger and discomfort, for part of 
the way lay through a swamp which was too large 
to go around. Once some of the porters sank 
to their hips, and only prompt work saved them 
and their precious loads. For the expedition was. 
now getting far from all sources of supplies, and 
everything they had with them was of vital 
necessity. | 

Again they stirred up a herd of buffalo, which 
were on the point of charging, and only a fusil- 
lade of shots drove them away. 

On this occasion Blake and Joe tried for some 
moving pictures, but, though they got out their 
cameras as soon as the herd was turned aside, 
it was too late, and only some unsatisfactory films 
were obtained. . 

Another time, at dusk, they disturbed a couple 
of the prehensile-lip rhinoceroses, who blindly 
charged, though our friends had no intention of 
_ harming them. | 

C. C. Piper had to do some quick shooting 
then. He killed one of the queer beasts and 
wounded another, and the slain one made the 
natives happy, for they were short of meat. 

_ But on one occasion the boys did get a series. 


_ of fine pictures. This was at a water hole, in the 


midst of a plain surrounded by a growth of timber 
which gave them a screen. They ascended a tree 




















came to drink. Then came a We of po 

which spread their tall front legs in ungainly 
fashion in order to bring their heads close enough 
to sip the water, in the low pools (7) .0e as 

Afterward came a family of sienhane one a 
‘little one, and they drank their fill, the baboons 
retiring a safe distance, being the weaker animals, 
though this species is dangerous in the extreme 








in small droves, a 1 match for aay animals—but 
> snot the elephant. vga went 

“A good day’s worst: ace ae Toe) when 
they came away from the ‘water hole. 
“Some dandy films!’ was Blake’ Ss opinion, 
“And, best of all, we hee: have to gO out of i: rr 









There had been some indications of the passage 
es of a body of natives in that direction. — Whether 
ae a or not they had with them Jessie and the othe 
_ white captives was a matter of conjecture. Stil 
_ Joe and his father had hopes. They cea 
as ae until the ahh | ho et | 

































“THE LION HUNT 119 


here a number a atlopes were seen, and Joe 
nd Blake were fortunate enough to get a very 
Tare picture—a view of two noble Koodoo bucks 
having a battle royal. So interested were the 
animals themselves in the outcome that they never 
noticed the moving picture boys, who stood in 
plain view, in a clearing, making films. Nor did 
the others in the herd take the alarm until the 
fight was over and one of the bucks vanquished. 
_ Then some movement on the part of Blake or 
Joe startled them, and they were off at a gallop, 
leaving the injured buck on the ground. But his 
flesh made good food for the black porters. 

_ The journey was ever onward, and _ several 
ays after the finding of the Bible, Happy One, 
tho was in the lead, suddenly threw down his 
bundle, readjusted his hyena headdress, and began 
brandishing his spear. 

“What is it?” asked Blake in some alarm. 
“Simba! Simba!’ cried Happy One. 

“He says lion,” interpreted the sergeant. 
“Alion!’ cried C.C. “If that’s the case 
d he made a quick motion toward his gun. 
“Oh, there’s no lion about to charge,” said Mr. 
otchkiss, hastily. “Probably Happy One has 
ghted a party of African hunters after a lion. 
i rere i is no beast the blacks fear so much as the 
























Many of the porters got rid of their bade and 
began dancing about. The whites pushed f for- 
ward and beheld a curious sight. a 
Marching toward them was a band of Age 
hunters, each one carrying a big spear with 
head several feet long, of soft iron, sharpene 
to a razor-like edge. The butt of the spears, to 
was partly of iron, only the middle being of wooc 
and the natives all carried ox-hide shields. _ 
They were tall and straight, these savages, 
fierce and fearless-looking; true lion hunter: 
_ And, as they advanced, they broke into a chan 
“That’s it!” cried the sergeant. “It’s a lio 
hunt, all right. Boys, you’re in luck! Get yo 
cameras ready, and you'll see a rare ‘sight—lic 
hunted by means of spears and shields!” _ 
“Good!” cried Blake, while Joe hurried: back 
toward the mule that cacy: the seat pict 
outfits, 4) Se TE a 





















CHAPTER XIV. 
| THE WRONG TRAIL 
 ©Wuar’s it all about?” asked Mr. Duncan. “I 


f ‘be a lion hunt here?” is 
_ “That’s about it, Mr. Duncan,” answered the 
former soldier. “That is, not exactly here, but 
in this vicinity. These are some Masai warriors 
out on a hunt. Probably their village is near 
here, and there may have been trouble with lions. 
Yl have a talk with them, and we'll find out. 
But if they stir up one of the beasts you will sure 
see some great fighting, my word!” and he lapsed 
© into his English idiom. 
“But will they hunt the lion with just those 
. spears | >?” asked C. C. Piper, wonderingly. “No 


say, now. I think we eet to offer them the use | 
of a gun or two.” 

_-—s “They’d feel insulted if you did,” said Mr. 
e "Hotchkiss. UIf-is their boast that they can all 


| “don’t exactly understand, sergeant. Is there to 


_ guns, no revolvers for work at close quarters? t 






















i lions. with only their Spears, with their shields 
for defense. They would scorn to use a gun. 
But we’ll soon see what’s up. Got your esa 
ready, boys?” 


: ioe We will have, soon,” replied Blake. 
va “This doesn’t look much. like lion yaraines \ i 
ey "spoke Joe. . 3 


“You never can tell,” answered the sergeant. 
By this time the advancing warriors, who wore 
; only loin cloths, had come to a halt at the sight — 
' of the safari. They were a bold and elie 
| looking lot of men, and the absence of any women — " ‘ 
or children betokened that they were bent on 
desperate business, sh ‘ 
\ “Maybe they’re on the waepat . cigeeted 
Mr, Duncan. “Can it be that savages, such as : 
these, have carried off my little daughter?” 
“T hardly believe so,’ answered the sergeant. 
“Certainly this particular tribe did not, for they 
don’t do such things. It is more likely some of 
_ the lower class African races. In fact, according 
to our information, none of the Masai were 
involved in ss kidnapping. But Raa want a 
hipariey;. I see.’ 
The lion hunters had halted, ond one, Pee 
the chief, now advanced. There was nothing i 
. hostile i in their actions, for doubtless the sight, of 
oF ae native : Porters, and ee ee ching 





’ 








i 






_ THE WRONG TRAIL 123 


ona peaceful errand. 
But, as one’s life in Africa depends. on the 
attitude of not only beasts, but savage men, it is 
best to take no chances. The chief of the lion 
hunters came forward and began to talk in a deep, 
almost booming voice. He’ used simple but 
effective gestures, and really seemed quite a 
dignified savage. : 
a “You forget that he hasn’t many clothes « on, 
_ when you hear him talk,” said Joe. 
“That's right,” agreed Blake; “I wonder what 
he is saying? Happy One seems to understand 
him.” ; | 








porter and the chief lion hunter were in a friendly 
conversation. Then Sergeant Hotchkiss took 
part in it, as he understood some of the Masai 
language, and presently the former soldier said: 
--“Tt’s just as I expected. They are out on the 
trail of a pair of lions that have carried off several 













_ tribe. They invite us to go along, but they 
expressly stipulate that no guns are to be used.” 


id 


fine them? C. C. wanted to know, 


songs they sung, told them that our friends were 


This was so, and in a few moments the head — 


of their cattle, and have injured some of their 


“Not even if there is danger of the lion attack- 


“Not even then,” insisted Mr. Hotchicas: : A 
4 “They Bay, peey can take care of the lion with 

















124 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN 


theif REranes and they can, too. My wanda Tv 
seen ’em. I have told,them the boys want some ag? 
moving pictures of it, and they are willing. Now. : 
trail along. Of course, if you find yourselves i in 
danger from a lion, don’t hesitate to shoot, but — 
don’t even to save a native’s life—that is, one of — 
the Masai natives—don’t fire. They would nace ey 
forgive you if you did.” | a 
He said something to the Masai chief, nie in 8 
turn, addressed his men. The latter called out 
what seemed to be a salute to the white men, and 
the latter’s porters answered. Then they started — 
off. ae: : seve | 
Leaving their property in charge of the native — 
porters, one and all of whom refused to come on 
_ the lion hunt, Joe and Blake, with the sergeant 
and Mr. Piper, started after the warriors. Mr. — 
Duncan elected to stay with pie baggage. ae pe 
“Better take these with you,” said C. ci to 
the boys, as they started off with their cameras, — 
for each had one of the moving picture machines. 
“What?” asked Blake. lee 
“A heavy revolver. In case of the. worst, Ha : 
the lion comes at you, and those fellows don’t 
- stop him with their spears, you may need it.” ed Le 
_“That’s right,” agreed Joe. Oe 
ey oe the weapons into their posts : 4 






























THE WRONG TRAIL qas 


4 heir way soon lay across a plain of rather high 

grass. The hunters were strung out in a long 

line, covering a wide area, for the lion might be © 

er upon at any time now. : 

After a few miles of this progress, during 

Ewhich there were several false alarms, they came 

toasmall valley. Tall rushes and grass grew in 

the centre, with here and there thorn trees of no 

great height. 

_ The head hunter called out something, and his 

men replied in a fierce chorus. : 

_ “He says,” translated the sergeant, “that here, 

if anywhere, we'll stir up a lion.” 

~ “Good! cried Blake. | 

_ The line of warriors advanced. They were 

rather silent now, wary and cautious, with their 

eepears and shields in re The boys were 
on the alert. 

4 Suddenly came another shout, aad the blacks 

broke into a run. | 

_ “Simba! Simba!” was the cry. 

_ “A lion!” shouted the sergeant. 

And there, just ahead of them, sprang up a 


3 








The hunters broke into a joyous shout, spread- 
g out fanwise. The lion leaped ahead, intent on 











— them. 












in store for him. 
“We can never get a moving: ee ne 
going to run away!” exclaimed Blake. __ 
“They'll ‘stop him soon,” said Mr. Hotchkiss 
“Come on.’ 
On they ran, and they bal not gone far befo 
the lion was brought to bay. Snarling and growl 
ing, he stood in the midst of a large circle of t 
spearmen. Their leader shouted. Eon 
“He’s calling us to come up with cut Bie 
machines,” explained the sergeant. “Come on.” 
The boys ran forward. The lion was not it 
sight now, but the grinning chief of the hun 
pointed to a clump of thorn bushes which move 
now and then. And there was no wind to ae 






Simba. exclaimed the cher. Was 
“The lion is there,” oeehaned the serg rea 
“Put your cameras on that little mound, and yc 
have : a a good view of the whole He | 













“THE WRONG REAL I al 127 


4 Stealthily the bikes: advanced. Joe and Blake 

4 took picture after picture. It was a tense moment. 

- With a terrific roar the lion leaped from his 

} cover and stood in the open, lashing his sides with 

“his tail. The very ground seemed to vibrate 

with his rumblings 

 “T hope he ee t break through that Hee and 

“come for us,” spoke Blake. 

3 “Same here,” echoed Joe, grinding away at his 

machine. 

Nearer and nearer came the warriors. The lion 

wheeled about seeking an opening. There was 

‘none in that circle of bristling spears. 

- But, seeing a place that the beast evidently 

erent was weak, he made for it. The chief 

called out something, and the men braced with 

their spears, ready for the shock. 

_ “There he goes!” cried Joe. “I can’t get a 

1 Bood view! The men are in my way!” 

— “Pll film it!” shouted Blake. 

_ With a roar the lion leaped into the air, and at 
ne of the men, who rose from a crouching posi- 

ion to receive it. While the beast was yet in 

nidair the black man threw his spear. Like a 

haft of light it struck the lion, and passed com- 

ae se him, the head appearing on the 


eer 

























On he launched Hinaeeles scape at ous ma | 4 
who oe ‘him on his shield. But the lio 


ge spear faa to him bye a fellow hunter. | 
a With shouts the other warriors closed in o1 
either flank of the beast that was bearing dow: 

~~. \ their comrade. Scores of spears flashed in the 
ee light. No living creature was proof against the Ale 
Gs “He’s done for!” cried Blake, who was bu 
with the machine. + ee aes 
“And so is the man, I guess,” said Teen yoke 
The warrior had been borne to earth, ‘but , 
shield partly protected him. The lion was ni 
hidden by the blacks surrounding him, and stab 
bing him with their spears. There came a las 
rumbling roar, and the fight 1 was over. ena 













Kwitchine!: in deat Ok their comrade. The li li 
fight was over. an | vont a 
: “And, oh! what a film ve ooh 4 cried Blake, % 
Ot Oe Moston it, too,” said Joe. Pata co) 

There was much loud talking and ‘rit 
i opus among the hunters, while some =. 














i 


be 


7 


p 
2 
} 


Fs 
a 
4 








‘ 
Pe: 


_ THE WRONG TRAIL 129 


“And they’re used to being clawed,” explained 
the sergeant. He talked with the head hunter, ; 
who explained that the lion was the very one that 
B had been devastating their village. They recog- 
nized him by a spear wound in his flank, given | 
a native the beast had attacked. 

There was further rejoicing among the blacks, 
as they carried off the body of the lion, as well 
as the form of their comrade, on their shields, 
_ Joe and Blake filming the triumphant march and 
_ the dance of rejoicing around the fallen foe. 

Then, returning to where they had left their 


_ porters, our friends once more started on the trail 


they hoped would lead to the captive missionaries 
and Jessie Duncan. 

For three days they traveled on, "sometimes 
easily and again under hardships. The trail 
seemed to become more and more plain as they 
advanced, and there were indications of foraging ~ 
and hunting parties having made trips into the 
jungle. 

“We'll soon be up to them,” said the sergeant, 
a. afternoon, 

— “And what will Beppen: oy ae Mr. Duncan. 
“It’s hard to say,” was the answer, “but we 
must prepare for the worst.” 
“Or the—best !” exclaimed C. <,, 4n-heatty 2 
















nee as dusk was ee ann they came to 
Rr aia the outlying huts of an African village. The — 
4 - expedition closed up, and the porters” grasped a 
their spears. The whites got out their guns. — 
“According to all signs this is where the trail 

ends,” said the sergeant. ‘We will ask them 

what we want to know, and if ic! ca seu cap- 





( tives here ‘ 
ver : “We'll make them give ’em up!” cried Toe ; 
fiercely. : | ra 


Nearer they came to ihe villa Men aad 
women and children ran out. There were ex- 
cited shouts and cries, and then, to the aston 









. dered. | SF hes eae. 
a), SURE don’t seem very hostile,” said Blak 





“We've made a mistake. We've ai on : 
wrong trail all the time!” Biot 
a bhe wrong trail?” asked Joe 









sion station?” ergot Se) a, mae 
: “Yes, but not anti after it t was bu 





THE WRONG TRAIL 13! 


came from there, and it is their trail we have 
Been following. But the other savages were 
there before them, and did the damage. We 
have followed the wrong trail!” 


CHAPTER XV 


AT THE WATER | HOLE 


_ DISAPPOINTMENT was the portion of ou 
ends They had been so sure all along tha 
they were on the right trail that to get to th 
end and find that all their work had been 2. fai 
ure came as a shock to them. Riayat) 
“Are you sure you are right?” asked Mi 
Duncan. “Is it not. possible that these nat , 
may be deceiving us? Have they hidden 
daughter away. somewhere?” — ; 

Eagerly he looked through. the ae 

dusk amid the native huts. Joe, too, | 
forward, followed by his chum. ve 
Sa SNE SLE she these natives are one 7 
they say,” spoke Sergeant Hotchkiss. 
“But there is just a Renee said - | 


inte man 


By 





a THE 5 WATER HOLE | 133 


j 








y Pics was teed ba bere was nothing else to be 
Boone. _ The villagers welcomed their unexpected 
guests, and set aside some huts for the use of 
the porters. Of course the whites camped by 
themselves: in their tents. Soon supper was — 
_ being served and later a walk about the place 
_ convinced even Mr. Duncan that he need have 
4 proting: to suspect of these Africans. 
ee err head men told a straight story. They at 
a been off on a hunting trip and had passed sey 
through the burned village. They even ap- } 
_ propriated some of the things overlooked by 
P! _ the natives who had pillaged it, but this was all. 
“Then it means another search,” said the 
_ father of the captive girl. 
ag “But that will be successful—I’m sure of it,” _ 
declared C. “ Piper. “We'll find her next. 


















é: “T’m sure I hope so,” spoke Blake. 
_ They began their return trip the next morning, = 
oe an invitation from the tee natives (ea . 





ea a Ft 

















I 134 “MOVING PICTURE BOYS. I "HI 


ay | «So do 1 midiioe. INS Se ea 
And so back they went. The a lvened) 
oe the place of the burned village was without i it 
a _ cident, save that some moving pictures wer 
ne obtained of the smaller animals feeding. and 
_ drinking. Some monkeys were discovered and 
a very funny film was made from their antics, 
as Joe, hidden in the dense underbrush, feed 
them at their play. 
“T think you boys are in ee cone teed , 
good,” said Mr. Hotchkiss one day when they — 
had gone about a day’s journey away from the 
pillaged mission station, on a new trail this tim 
“What is that?” asked Joe. SR a 
“At a water hole not far off now,” was t 
answer of the former soldier. “It’s the main 
one for this region and all about, it is quite. 










a very much frightened save boy ay hi 
been witness of the original attack, mee 





% ‘route tae by the pillagers and he fate that 

7 they had carried off the white captives. 

a “Thank the Lord for. that!’ exclaimed Mr. 

"Duncan “Then Jessie may yet be alive—she 

and Mr. and Mrs. Brown.” 

: : And so they had taken the new trail—the one 

¥ they hoped would be the right one. 

_ “A water hole; eh?” said Blake, when he 
"heard about it. “What sort of pictures ought 

e. _ we to film there, sergeant?” 

“All kinds,” was the answer. “You may get 
ny thing from a giraffe to a lion, or from a 
_ baboon toarhino. Water in the jungle makes 
all wild animals of a kin—for the time eg Te f 
2 pe Phough later they may fight like cats and dogs.” 

They traveled on, and it was late that after- 
Ps when Happy One, who, as usual, was in 
the lead, stopped, threw down his burden and 
began dancing about, brandishing his spear. 

_ “What’s up now?” asked Blake. 

f “Maybe he sees an elephant or a hippo,” sug- 
gested Joe, “and he wants C. C. to tt it, sO 
a “they | can have broiled steak for supper.” 

“TT don’t believe it’s that,” remarked Ser- 
eant Hotchkiss, who was riding beside the 






































wie : e indeed. ae i! _ ' 
“Then this must be the water hole!’ 
claimed Blake. © 


“T hope it is,” said Joe. one ee 








It was the water hole, as they soon saw. 
| Coming up to where Happy One was dancing 
_ about and singing, the boys looked down into a 
sort of level valley, in the centre of which wer 
a number of depressions containing water. 

“Water hole!” exclaimed Mr. ae “it look 
Jike a whole lot of holes.” | 

“There are a number, fortunately,” ‘gail. the 
former soldier. “But it is generally spoken of 
gas a ‘hole. Gaye here are a number of places apa . 
















we ae weather het there is only one, 
filled, there are terrible fights for the nig He t 

the few drops that remain.” ae ae ae 7 

a" Look cried Joe. “What are those small 

animals running away from the cn : 

“Monkeys. ois baboons,” | 

‘ : Hotchkiss. 


















2 ‘some pictures here?” 
“I’m sure we can,” said Blake, as he noted 
that there were a number of large trees in which 
_ their cameras could be placed and screened 
from view. | 
“We'll try it to-morrow,” said Joe, and so it 
was agreed. 
‘They went into camp not far from the water 
hole, but as it was likely that many wild beasts 
would come to the drinking pools after dark, 
unusual precautions were taken. The tents of 
the whites, as well as the primitive sleeping 
_ places of the blacks, were surrounded by a thorn 
_bomba, or fence. Large fires were built and 
aaide posted with guns. : 
It was some time after the night meal before 
lake or Joe turned in. They were getting 
heir cameras ready for the morning. Then, 
too, the strangeness of the surroundings im- 
pressed them. And they watched the blacks 
ooking their ao meal and preparing to. 


7 
ere.“ 





noise. At first he thought te was in N ew York 
and that the fire engines’ were passing. - Ther 
she was more fully aroused by a nudge from Joe 
“What’s the matter?” asked Blake. 
“Something’s going on!” cried his. chur 
“There’s a row at the water hole. oes seni 
nels arevall éxcited.7' yams ste re rh 
Once more that peculiar whistling g un 
sounded. eran Pirie ise 
“Rhinos!” exclaimed Sérgeant Hotchki 44 
from the next tent. “And a fight. is on at 1 he 
pool. Boys, if you had a ee Lev co 
get a dandy picture now! 


natives. 





7 Was ae) ae 
oy thy 3 RIE: eS Ae aN) by aly 
ena ait 

TOV Mie ter ‘aes | 



















CHAPTER XVI 
if RHINOCEROS CHARGE # 


-“Wrerr’s that flash powder, Blake ?” 
_“T don’t know. Hand me my shoes, wil! you?” 
“There they are, right by your cot. rae 
nock that camera over!” f 
“Say, you fellows are so excited you don’t 
know whether Ky re standing on your head or 
on your heels,” complained C. C. Piper, as he 
ooked into the tent, lighted by a swinging lan- 
ern, Indeed Joe and Blake were somewhat 
ipset at the prospect of making a new kind of 
moving picture. 

“Oh, we'll get there after a bit,” said Blake, 
is he completed dressing. Joe, too, was soon 
ready and got out the cameras. 

Meanwhile the native porters, learning that 
hey were not expected to get out and assist at 
night hunt, had ceased their excited cries. 
: r. Duncan took occasion to warn the boys to 
E be careful and then went back to his tent. 














lighted up.” : 2 ty 
et eee our ae. works,” spoke oa “s 


enough to get a series of views.’ 
“How did you fix Len asked Sergent Hotel 1- 
kiss.”’ . 


Pherae fe Blake. “Mr. Hadley t 
us about it. Are you ready there, 7 Decay 4 
“Sure thing.” vn 
“Plenty of film i in the camera?” us ae 
A thousand feet en hate 


the light?” | 
“Tt’ll burn for half. an hous, I think.” a 
ak S good. 


on, I'm ious | Geeta. 
eee started from their ¢ cam 


























ie ring Foe Mitch bush een as a fence, i 
g toward the water hole. 


drinking plabe: 


‘We may es more of a picture than we bar- 
gained for.” 

_ “And hark to those rhinos,” added his chum. 
“They must be having a great old time.” 
s “A fight, probably,” said the sergeant. “They 
have: a very thick skin, but when one rams 
another, those heavy, sharp horns make terrible 
q wounds.” 
The noise at the water hole seemed to in- 
rease. The roaring of the lion became louder 
nd then died away. It was almost silent for a 


lained the former soldier. “He drinks alone. 


ish. Ate 





fone 2 suggested Blake. “We want to film him.” 
They hurried on and, a little later, came to 
1€ water hole, yee moon was just coming up, 


tary 


“A lion, all right,” remarked Joe, grimly. 


“The lion has driven everyone else away,” ex- 


Vhen he leaves. the others will come back and. 


"Ce Se = 
at 


ato an 142 “MOVING PICTURE Bors 


—“T guess this will do,” sui Bla e in 
| fone, as he indicated a Pls where the 
) sacha be set. oe 


offered Joe. 

“And we'll stand by thee guns, ee 
Mr. Piper. I Been 

Thus it was arranged. They could se 
shadowy forms moving about near the wate 
hole, but could not make out what animal 
they were. 

“Light up!” called Blake, ‘when he had th 
camera set. Beet 

“Light she is!” exclaimed Joe, and ai mome t 
later the scene was brilliantly illuminated. — 
strange picture was presented as Mies bega 
‘to turn the handle of the camera. Bas 

Somewhat back from the water bole were. 
number of baboons, sitting on their haunche 
seeming to grin in their ugly fashion at som 
other animal. Some of the ape-like creat res 
were chattering angrily. Then came a gr 
_and the boys noticed a big lion es his ‘ 
at the pool. | : hin Se 
“Qld Mr. Leo drove the baboons away i 
a hiapened Blake. | | 
° Phats right,’ answered cae ‘chum, ‘he 


me low voices did: not disturb the lion 


























ee Cae of ey looted up to 

_ see the cause of the flare. The baboons did also, 

it none of them ran away, as the boys feared 

ould be the case. 

“Maybe they think it’s aconiotnat sug- 

gested Joe. 

_. “Queet moonlight,” Beeeed Blake; ‘but as 

long as they think so, it’s all the better for us,” 

and he continued to grind away at the machine. | 

The slight clicking noise seemed to bother the 

lion at first, but, looking carefully about, and 

seeing nothing and, as the wind was blowing 7 
om him to the boys and he did not scent them, 

_he seemed to conclude that everything was all 

vi right and went on drinking. Ner were the apes 


- ae 


ching back to ie water. Meio t 
“Some pictures, these,” remarked Blake. ae 
I should guess yes,” agreed his chum. 4a 
‘The scene was ever changing. The baboons 
ished away ina body and a herd of some small 
deer came to the pool. Then a slinking leopard - 
; drove these timid creatures away. In his turn 
the fierce cat Bar way to a troop of howling 






ee Though these scavenger ers of 


“molest a ‘eopand) a a a eta, a be 
so bold that they will sometimes even atta 
_lion—and kill it, too. Be te 


for they were well screened oh Nes occasi 
ally did some beasts hear the clicking of the 
camera and look suspiciously i in that directic mn ) 


j 


all,” a YE Mr. Piper. Bree 


ee © rue 


it doesn't look so,” ey the = 


water hole. af 3 
“Rhinos!” exclaimed the sergeant, 
his rifle in readiness. ie : 


Tight 
“moment, and then consading that, 

























re was ie a thie queer grunts, aad al Ae 
scond rhinoceros rushed out toward the water. _ 
he second one did not seem tosee the firstone 
ntil almost at its side, and then the first one, 
aising its head, noticed the other. MGR 
With lowered heads, the two great Nina? on 
ach one prominent, they stood for a moment 
aotionless, and the sergeant whispered: 


“ 


~ 


| The words were scarcely out of his mouth , 
before there was a rush and the two came to- | 
ether with an impact that could be heard for 

ome distance. The magnesium light made 

verything almost as clear as day, and Blake 

kept on taking pictures. 

_ The fight did not last long. The first rhi- 

noceros, with a quick, savage motion, thrust its 

orn into the other’s side, inflicting a grievous © 
wound. The injured animal, with a grunt of 

pain and dismay, backed off, and, after standing 

motionless a moment, turned and walked slowly A ead 
off, staggering. ~ ORE 
‘“He’s badly hurt,” whispered Blake. | eee) 
‘I should say so,” agreed his chum. “He | 
We last _ long. But what pictures we’ re 


dee 












i 


asa rhinoceros tale back to ihe 


in the: Deana were see waterbu : 
ing on to the pool. Suddenly the film in! the 
/ >} ceamera broke. \ baa 
_ “Pshaw!” exclaimed Blake load: ‘before 
thought. “Now we'll lose some ae scen 
while I fix that. as | Pe 


said Joe. 
“Quiet! re hissed the 


acute. The reas had Real the boys’ 


a i 


and had sensed from whence iticamexin ty 
- With an angry, whistling grunt he rush 
straight for the place of cones ee , gathe 
speed as he came. | t 
“We'd better man!” cried Joe. ia Aa 
“Save the camera, whatever ‘you do!” 
claimed Blake. ant eee Mee | 





se 
s, 


Oreias Soe 
Say TE 


A RHINOCEROS CHARGE 147 


have a clear range to shoot. The rhinoceros 
was now close enough so that he could make out 
his enemies in the strong light. 

“We've got to stop him!” cried the former 
soldier. 

“Here goes!” came from Mr. Piper, as he 
leveled his gun. 

“I’m with you,” echoed the sergeant, as he 
got into a position to blaze away at the in- 
furiated beast. 


ula see the great eee waver in a bis d 


y? 


“Keep on going, boys! 30 
Blake and Joe, who were pa the be: t ti 


sb Nandy 


RN out of danger, with Savi banish ee f- 


pr 


“He S a tough ¢ one! 
. afraid we ‘d better run for ito 






















“THE ELEPHANT TRAIL 140 eS 
| ; | 
em to eee On came the janibering 
beast, but the fusillade of shots was too much 
for it. Bullet after bullet snapped out from the 
two heavy rifles, and, though it might seem like 
cruelty, they were not shooting for sport, but 
to save their lives. 

Then, when he had almost reached the two 
ntrepid men who stood there facing him, the iN 
rhinoceros stumbled and came to hisknees. 
a ‘We've got him now!” sang out C. C. 

- “One more shot to finish him!” cried his com- 


_ And, as the creature was endeavoring to rise, 
final bullet sent it over dead. 

“That was a narrow squeak!” 
, and Blake came to a stop. : 
“That’s right, old man. But, Sar only the _ 
iim hadn’t broken, and we could have had a i‘ 


said Joe, ashe.) - 










UN like that one,” sighed Bake an sae a 
Harpe tones. “But I Speers ae ought to be Oe 





i 







150 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN * 
on camp to see what the deine are 


“No, I guess we have coaual said Blak 


‘ of the film, and I guess the light i is aNout burnec 
N _ out. 9? 3 AS hae 












had. Te the =noonN they eae their vi aa 
Moe. back to their tents and to sleep, though most of 
o We the porters, hearing of the slain rhinoce OS. 
stayed up to get some meat. Then they lighted 
big fires and hada feast that lasted until nea i 
morning. ty 
When daylight came, ‘Blake an Jae found 
| ‘the reason for the breaking of the film was that 
-some of the mechanism of the camera was out 
_ of order. They decided to stay in camp until it 
‘ could be repaired, and ee this bia v 


























coh Sthat hey could hardly alee ‘ 
_ There was no need to kill any more i 
: the table, and thus every one had aun 
x ee and Be who busied the mst 
















Slow what sort of trail they might meet deeper 
- inthe jungle, they decided to remain where they 
were until it cleared. But it continued to rain 
for two days and they spent them drearily 
_ enough, there being little to do. Mr. Duncan 
_ fretted because they were not making progress 
toward finding his daughter, but there was no 
C help for it. 

_ Then came clear weather, and with ae 
: One to lead the now well-satisfied porters the 
_ expedition again started off. They were in a 
— good game country now, and while for some 
time afterward the boys did not get a chance to 
a _make any extraordinary pictures, still they got 
some. And there was plenty to eat, which kept 
4 _ the porters in good humor. 


Oba they were on the right road, for they made 
a inquiries at small native villages through which 












ae pay 


“THE ELEPHANT TRAIL st 


The next day it rained and, as they did not | 


_ For nearly a week they traveled on, sure ae 


tg me and learned that the party of raiding 


as be oi ” replied Happy One, who Y 





152, “MOVING PICTURE BOYS INT rH. 


"spoke several Aigisare “One white 1 
_ two missies !” ba 

“Oh, that must be Jessie Bad her friend 
cried the father of the missing girl. ; 
_ Sometimes they received wrong informatio | 
hot intentionally given, however; | and oy 


were abate SEX ones to ‘have ening! 


i raiding party on its way back, had been 


timid to get close Pe to Jearn the 


It was mot easy ee “Most fiehe wee 
Tay through a dense jungle, with only a narrow 
' 4 native trail, which necessitated going 

file. : 
this was es we sleome. 
| ford a river. A Sale 





ae iE ELEPHANT 1 TRAIL : 


rhe 


y eek i in one camp to nurse him. But he 
CC vere and once: more ao were under way. 





ayo} anes somewhat afraid of it, others declai med 


CHAPTER XVIII 


SOME RARE Beco 


Happy One sent back the aan to the porters 
‘the rear, and at the news of elephants there we 
mingled expressions. While some of the bla 
men chanted of the power of the mighty be 


° 


a feast ey as you never § saw  Getonee dealt 

“Ts elephant meat good to eat?” sad oat a 
“The natives will eat almost. anythi saic 
the sergeant, “as long as it’s. ‘meat. 
- course, there are some parts of an ele 

_ ter than another. 7 

has El ever enjoyed, and the i 1 

soup. Elephant’s. s feet, 
i delicious.” ORG an te TN: 










SOME RARE PICTURES so 


‘a “Elephant s feet!” cried Blake. “T’ve eaten 
a pig’ s trotters, but elephant’s 
_ “The way to do it,” said the former soldier, 
“is to make a hole in the ground, build a fire 
A in it, get a lot of hot embers ready, and bury 
_ the foot in them. Go off for the day, and when 
you come back the meat inside the foot will be 
a roasted to a turn and no beef or mutton can 
equal it. But we may not get an elephant.” 

f “We'll make a hard try for some pictures, 
j 

4 

| 

! 

- 

F 





- anyhow,” said Blake. “Let’s get our cameras 
ready, Joe.” 
“Qh, you’ve got plenty of time,” said the ser- 
_ geant. “Though this trail is comparatively fresh, 
still a herd of elephants can travel much faster 
_ than you would think, merely to look at them. 
_ They are a good many miles off now, and, 
_ though they may stop to feed, we can hardly 
come up to them. to- Roh It may take three 
- days.” | 
“But it’s a good trail to follow,” spoke Joe. 
} “Yes, indeed,” agreed C. C. Piper. “When a 
FE: “herd of elephants go along, they don’t stop for 
" small obstacles. They knock down anything 
that gets in their way. That makes it good for 
us. But if we go after these big beasts we may 


99 







Unconsciously he was falling into his old 





. danauey at Lape 


“You didn’t catch me. ae time!” he. Ti af 
gaily. “Everything is going to be lovely, 1 
you'll get some fine views; I’m sure.” 

“That’s the way to a cried Blake, en 


3 couragingly. 


e 


“Well, let’s mave,’ * aapaaleasl yon 


better than crawling through a tein 


“But won’t it take us too far away from 


search?” asked Mr. Duncan, bgt, 


| kidnappers are. iy poor Tessie may b : 


ing all sorts of hareeiD 


ant ee that,” ‘said id the sergeant, g 


is necessary. But we must keep ‘the | : 


well supplied with meat, or tees ae : 


Oo the jungle So if we can get an nla 
4 i | nae to our nena ie ie 


“can, in the end, save time an pit | 
Ny “That? s all qT want to know,” . aid 





7 
A 







i ; f 
d } 


‘ee SOME RARE PICTURES 157 


a ead: sO do dy Dad! !? cried Joe. “And we will 
find her, too. We won't waste any time, but 
_ we've got to depend on our porters when it 
comes to the last, and there may be a fight.” 
“Yes, that is so,” admitted Mr. Duncan. 
_ They took up the elephant trail, and followed 
it until nightfall. They made camp near a 
_ spring, and Joe, who went out to trace a bird 
_ with a peculiar call, was lucky enough to shoot 
an eland, which furnished the camp with meat, 
and sent the porters into transports of joy. 
_ Early the next morning, after an uneventful 
night, save that lions roared in the distance, 
_ and hyenas howled, they again took up the trail. 
They followed it for three days, but could not 
- seem to come up to the big creatures. Once or 
twice they heard them in the distance, crashing 
through the underbrush, and pulling up thorn 
- trees on which they fed. But the wind was 
_ blowing from behind, carrying the scent from 
the hunters directly to the pachyderms, so that 
( they were continually being alarmed and kept 
_ on-the march. 
as “But when the wind dies down, or changes, 
we'll have a good chance,” said the sergeant, 
ae, C. C. Piper agreed with him. ee ohn), 
‘ cred of being continually on the move,” went — 
on the former ae ‘and stop to rest.” 








HeMaybe they'll 1 lie dona inc 
suggested Joe. yay 

“Elephants sleep standing up, as aru 
the er BranE, OLS Re, one of ae 
habits.” y 


| ' A\big birds were. © 


A cock ostrich chased him, and as ae ic 
these birds” is as pa as one from a ory 


See ee, 


Happy One saw his fellow mores 'g d nge ‘ae 











SOME RARE PICTURES 159 


“to pick up a piece of thorn bush, and hold it 
in front of the bird.” | 
“What good will that do; charm it?’ asked 


~ Blake. 


“No, but there is a very tender spot in the 
neck of an ostrich, just under the head,” said 
the sergeant, “and it dreads the prick of a thorn 


there more than anything else. That’s the only | 
way to protect: yourself from one of the big 
birds.” 


The black man did as directed. As he ran he 
caught up a long piece of thorn bush. Turning, 
he faced the ostrich, and, as he advanced the 
thorns toward the bird’s neck, the creature 


stopped and then began to “waltz” around the 
porter, seeking an opening. But the man con- 


tinually presented the thorn bush at the crea- 
ture, and then, getting a ee chance, C. C. 
shot the big bird. 3 

- “Too bad,” said the actor-hunter; “but it had 


to be done.” Blake and Joe had filmed the odd — 

scene, and later they took some of the ostrich 
_ feathers as souvenirs, some of the porters add- 
ie ing the plumes to their already fantastic head- 
_ dresses. | 


“T wonder when we will come up to those 


elephants?” asked Blake a little later that day, 
_ when they were once more on the march, 


160 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


“The trail is getting fresher,” said C.C. “We 
ought to be up to them soon.” 

“Vl have one of the porters climb a tree, 
and see if he can make them out,” said the 
sergeant. 

The black man had scarcely reached the top . 
of a tall bamboo standing on the edge of the 
broad trail, than he set up a shout. 

“What does he say?” demanded Blake. 

“He sees the elephants!” cried the sergeant. 
“Get ready now, boys. The wind is in our favor, 
and you may be able to get some pictures of 
them feeding.” 





o CHAPTER XIX 
A SHOT IN TIME 


_ Cautiousty the moving picture boys made 
; their way along the elephant trail.. They had 
‘two cameras with them, for they remembered 
hie. accident that had interfered with their 
setting a film of the charge of the rhinoceros, 
when the celluloid broke at a critical moment. 
“Though I don’t know that I care for an ele- 
phant charge,” said Blake, grimly. “A rhino is 
bad enough, but an elephant is about three 
times as big, and so PE ne three times as bad 
when he comes after you.” 

: “More than three times as bad,” declared 
Sergeant Hotchkiss; “especially if it’s a rogue 
lephant.” — 

“What kind is that?” asked Joe. 

_“Tt’s a solitary elephant, who, for some reason 
or other, likes to flock by himself,” explained 
the former soldier. “He gets unreasoning fits — 


ff 
rage, if Boeeats ever do reason, and runs 


i 

































amuck, ‘just like scree ‘He Bhs na tiv , 
He'll charge a stone wall, if he takes a notior i 
and once he gets after a hunter it’s all up Ww ith 
the man unless he can make a kill or rea a 
shelter. But I don’t imagine there’ I be 1 
in this herd. As I said, they psa go abou 
by themselves.” | 

The natives of the expedition oe beets 
behind, so as to render the noise of the advan 
less loud, and the only ones in the party wer 
the whites, the two boys, Mr. Duncan, C. C 
and the sergeant. The three latter carried g u 








with their cameras. . wee 

es will only shoot one, unless theres iS 
ger,” said the former. soldier; ‘ as ee ec V 
us meat Palas : 







ee be * ie f 

ty att 
ie te: Asn at had Wy ch) ae 

: } raspy 

7 


+e SHOT IN TIME 163 


x «No ow if we can only get some pictures!” said 
| Blake. , 

_ “We'd better climb a tree,” Suggested Joe. 
i Then we can get a better view.’ 

- “There’s a good cne over there,” suggested 
c 2. 

gy take that,” spoke Joe, a Blake, you 
can get in the one next to me. We'll work one 
camera, but if anything aE eHe to that we'll 
have the other in reserve.” 

_. So it was arranged, and soon the two lads 
“were making their way up into the trees, mov- _ 
ing as cautiously as possible. There were low 
branches which made the ascent compara- 
tively easy, and they carried with them light 
but strong cords, by which their cameras could 
be hoisted up. They could not use the tripods, 
but hoped, by resting the machines on a limb, to 
make them steady enough. 

“Oh, this is a fine view!’ cautiously called 
Blake to his chum, it being agreed that Blake 
was to make the first try for the pictures. 

_ “Yes, and I have a good one, too. If you 
reak a film or anything else Bae I can go 
























party of our friends was not organized fort 
less slaughter. One beast for food was 
they had limited themselves to. | 















ticks or other jungle Aitu site an 
| _ They ate in a peculiar manner. Reachin 
Mel with their trunks they would pull o 
: branches. Holding to one end of these the 
would put the foliage of the branch | ins he 

mouths and pull it out as one would a’ ‘bun 

currants, thus stripping off the tender leav 

which they munched contentedly, ig asic 

the now sense branch. fa 


ane wd te Duncan, 
any ea 





Been Se i, SA, i 
sb. = ele, s 
Eaten - ; 


£54 Mt Se GOR OE fui Soe es ee 
a 3 its if ia oe ae. ae heal 


A SHOT IN TIME 16s 


shot at the beasts when the films were com- - 


pleted. : 

“T guess I’ve got enough,” said Blake. “T’ll 
get down now. The elephants are getting 
uneasy and it seems as if they were going to 
start off again.” 

“Go ahead,” suggested Joe. “I'll stay for a 
while and maybe I can get something different.” 

Blake had lowered his camera to the ground 
and was about to descend himself, when, a short 
distance down, he slipped and fell with a crash. 
He was stunned for the moment, though not 
much hurt; but he made considerable noise. 

- Instantly the herd of elephants became aware 
of danger. The leader, a big bull, trumpeted 
shrilly and the others gathered together ready 
for a rush into the jungle. 

“Get that view, Joe!’ called Blake, as he 
staggered to his feet. As he did so he became 
aware of a sharp pain in his right ankle. He 
could not walk. 

At that instant the big bull, hearing the lad’s 
voice, became aware of the location of his foes. 
Raising his trunk high and with open mouth, 
his big tusks standing out, the huge fellow rushed 
straight at Blake. 


“Shoot! Shoot!” cried Mr. Duncan, who a 


~~ 















was So nervous that he realized it would be w use- ip 
less for him to try. | 
“Both together!” said Serearte Hothhice: | 
in a low voice to Mr. Piper. “We've as to | 
. stop him short!” ‘ a 
-' They aimed quickly. On came the cicphanee 2 
trumpeting with rage, while the others in the — 
herd joined in. They all began to move — 
i toward Blake, who was hopping away as fast 
as he could on one féot, having abandoned his 
_-Seamera. Joe was still in his tree, but. could — 
easily be shaken out of it. ay 
“Ready!” cried the sergeant. “Fire!” | 
we The two guns were discharged as one. The | 
| elephant was almost up to Blake, crashing 
through the bushes. But the men had fired aN 
straight, true, and just in time. 
The heavy bullets halted the elephant ious) is 
enough for the lad to make good his escape. 
Crashing to its knees the big beast tried to rise. Bl 
_ “Give him another!” yelled the former soldier 
and again they shot together. The elephant 
an crashed over on its side. Blake had been saved 
in the nick of time. The other elepha 
- shrilly trumpeting, made off in the jungle : | 
_ Blake’s camera, with its rare film, was rescu ry 
from the bushes where it had Gropp ne 









































CHAPTER XX. 


DOWN THE RIVER 


‘ 


Hotchkiss, as he stood on the bank of a jungle 
I iver. 

Tt ¢ seems to be the ae thine! to do,’ ie 
Mr. Duncan. “Our information is to the effect 
that the native camp we wish to reach is down 
this. direction, and the river offers the best 


39 


” put in 
But we can frake a raft,” soa his 


a that’ s ae we'll have to do,” said C. C. 


1? 


raft aya be just the thing!” 


: eee shall we chance it?” asked Sergeant. 


- “though it may capsize—no it won’t — 












Weneeance: on “atin: 
sprained when he ae hen out of He 


The sai sleaheat ae a pair pes magnit 
tusks and Ay were dea phi as. op 


sergeant way told them sbout—elephant 

Joe and Blake voted it very good. © 2 
Then had come a period of srayeline 

the Lac during which ies had s 





DOWN THE RIVER 169 


spring for water. The big cat was shot by 
Blake, but the man suffered very much and was 
incapable of any hard work. 

Then they had come to the banks of a fairly 
large river down which, according to native in- 
formation, was an African village that might be 
the home of the kidnappers. 

“Well, it seems to be the only thing to do— 
to try a trip down it,” said Mr. Hotchkiss, when 
they had held a consultation about it. “River 
travel is certainly easier than on land, in a jun- 
gle, and we'll have to cross it sooner or later, 
for J have a general idea now where the country 
lies that we are trying to reach.” 

“But how are we going to go down the river 
when we have no boats?” asked C. C. Piper. 
“We can’t swim—and I’ve had enough of that 
anyhow, since leaving the California coast.” 

“We can get the natives’ to build a big 
raft,” suggested Mr. Hotchkiss. ‘On that we 
can float down, but we can’t very well take the 
animals,” for they still had with them their rid- 
ing mules and those that carried packs. Sev- 
eral of the animals had died from the bite of the 
—tse-tse fly, but as the expedition was constantly 
using up food and supplies, the burdens of the 
dead animals were transferred to the heads of 
the porters. : : | 



















| “What can we eo with the animals?” " asked 
— Mr. Duncan. 
“Leave them back at the. valnee we passed 
a little while ago,’ ‘ suggested the former soldier, — 
and this was agreed to. | 
Happy One declared that his men bak soon 
build a raft that would carry them all, but when . e 
- it came to the making of it the whites found it i : 
better to superintend the details themselves. _ 
“They’d have it come apart in the middle of aN 
the river the way cee were binding the logs _ rar 
| together’ with vines,” said the sergeant as be 
‘caummade the ‘blacks correct some of their faults, “We 
__-want it substantially made.” fir 
But when the rafts were about dean (for 
they decided to make two) they were ample for 
all. The animals were to be left behind, and, 
with the packs and bundles, the moving picture 
_ cameras and films, those aac oPOr and 


~ 





at inede some morning soon. “a 
‘While the raft- building was going on es and 
Blake had some opportunity to go out into 
a jungle, near the river camp, and make ‘mo vi 
| - pictures. - Though they got no remarkable a 
_ they did succeed in filming a rhinoceros -u OR) 
M Ale back were a number of tick a (cee 











| | DOWN THE RIVER 171 
} : 
rhinoceros what the pilot fish are to the shark. 

They warn of danger. The big-horned animals 
of Africa, in common with most of the mam- 
mals, are infested with ticks, an insect that lives 
by sucking the blood of the beasts. Tick birds 
feed on these ticks and often perch on the backs 
of the rhinoceroses and pick them off. 

“But the birds are very shy and easily made 
aware of danger, not only to themselves but to 
their animal feeding-ground. They fly off at 
the first alarm, and as soon as they go the rhi- 
noceros knows that he must look out for himself. 
Once the tick birds fly from his back he begins to 
use the natural faculties most useful to him. 

Blake and Joe were getting some fine pictures 
of a rhino feeding, and as the wind was right, 
the beast did not scent them. Presently, how- 
ever, the tick birds became aware of something 
unusual going on. 





CHAPTER XXI 
THE LONE MESSENGER 


“Loox out!’ exclaimed Blake, as he saw the 
bird sentinels fly from the back of the big beast. 

“What is it?” asked Joe, who was working 
the camera. 

“He'll be coming this way soon if he happens 
to see us. He’s getting uneasy now that the 
birds are gone.” . 

Joe, who had been looking at the mechanism 
of te moving picture machine, glanced over 
toward the rhino. The huge creature did in- 
deed seem to be getting restless. 

He stopped feeding and began ieee the 
air, at the same time peering about with his lit- 
tle pig-like eyes. The birds were circling about, 
seemingly in an endeavor to locate the enemy 
they had sensed. Whether or not they would 
locate them our heroes did not know. They 
were fairly well screened amid some bushes, but 
this would offer no barrier to the rush of the 


rhinoceros. 
172 


THE LONE MESSENGER 17 









“With the birds gone the rhino knew some- 

‘thing was wrong and it began casting about to 

‘discover it, either by the sense of smell or his 

sharp hearing. But the wind carried from him, 
‘to the boys, consequently he did not get their. 
odor, nor did the slight chcking of the machine 

pry to him. 

With a puzzled “ “woot” and his peculiar 

| Bicline grunt the big beast finally moved off 

Finto the depths of the jungle, crashing his way 

through the underbrush. The tick birds fol- 

lowed as if satisfied that their walking res- 

taurant had done the right thing. 

_ “There he goes,” said Blake, with a sigh of 

telief, for they had brought no guns with them 

_and were some distance from the river camp. 
_ “Yes, we got some good pictures and without 
any danger,” observed jee “Well, shall we get 
pack?” 

“Might as well, I guess,” agreed his chum, 

and they took to the trail again, a deserted ele- 
phant. path through the fastness of the jungle 
affording g good footing. | 
On their way back they had rather a curious 
experience. They had often read of the honey © 
bird, but had not yet seen one, and when a little 
‘ eathered creature began circling about them, 

















es Leet a 















ing Shem to follow, Joe sade 
“That must be a honey bird Blake.” 
“T believe it is. Let’s trace it and see. 
can pick out a honey tree. Maybe oe ag 
about it is all bosh. i ee 


Hew on ahead of ere ‘perce in one Aree 
another until it had led them about half a 
Then, alighting on the limb of a gum tr 
stayed there, calling shrilly. ait 
“The bees must be near here,” observed J 
They looked around and, finally attracte 
the buzzing of some insects, a locates 4 
bees’ nest in a hollow tree. . 





Re kel Mas if, eet ae 





t: Vt Eis S38 


} 


THE LONE MESSENGER 175 


in order that it may get what otherwise it could 
_-not—a share of the sweet stuff and the succulent 


larvee. a 
The honey formed a welcome addition to 


their meal. The rafts were completed now, and 


the next day the expedition started down the 


_ river, the pack animals having been left behind. 


The trip down the stream was interesting. 


; : There was not so much life to be seen as there 


was in the jungle, but there were any number of 


_ erocodiles—big ones that seemed at first to be 


mere floating logs, but which soon came to life 


when the raft passed. A number of pictures 


were made of the unprepossessing saurians and, 


once or twice, great hippotami came so close 


fd filmed the huge creatures as they swam along- _ 


that it seemed they were going to attack the 
rafts. But the big boats were too solid to cause © 


any fear in regard to them, and Joe and Blake 


side, often with their mouths open to their 


widest extent. 

_ The progress was not fast, but it was much 
easier than traveling through the jungle. There 
were no bundles to carry, and the blacks seemed 
_ to appreciate this. 


All day long they stretched out on the rafts, 


improvising their queer chants and songs, now 
_ poleing the craft out from the shore when the — 





# 


176 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


current: carried them too far in, or keeping out 
from rapids they might run upon. 
At times a halt would be made to enable 


game to be shot, for it was necessary to keep 


the party in meat, and it all had to be killed fresh 
in that equatorial climate. 

They had been four days going down the 
river and were beginning to wonder when they 
would come near the location of the kidnapping 
natives. Mr. Duncan was beginning to get 
more and more worried. as he approached what 
he hoped would prove:to be the place where his 
daughter was held captive. 

“Oh, if Jessie is only alive and unharmed!” 
he exclaimed, “everything else will be all right.” 

“Of course she’ll be,’ declared C. C. Piper, 
who had only once or twice relapsed into his 
former gloomy moods. ‘Of course she'll be all 
tight and we'll soon find her.” 

Cite have to send out a scouting batty 
-soon,” declared Sergeant Hotchkiss. 

“Why?” Joe wanted to know. 


“Because we don’t want to come upon that a 


native camp unexpectedly. We don’t want to 


rush into danger. There may be a big crowd ~ 
of ’em and if we can take ’em unawares well © 


have so much the better chance to rout ’em. Yes, 
we must soon send out a scouting party!” 








Y geese OW Te aa 4 AS aia eet aiae get 


PF emy f 
. mat, g 


ut 





ae aie THE LONE MESSENGER 177 


“Can Joe and I go?” asked Blake, eagerly. 
\ “Hum! Well, I suppose so,” was the former 
soldier’s answer. “But we'll need some native 
guides, too.” 
_. They had moored the rafts to the river lees 
_ that evening, for they did not want to chance 
_ running down the stream in the dark, and were ~ 
just making a camp when Blake, who was look- 
_ ing across the water, called out: 
| ie “Here comes the biggest crocodile I’ve seen 
“yet. Get a gun, C. C., and have a pop at him. 
Maybe Ae could take the skin home for a 
souvenir.” 
_ They all looked to where he pomted. In the 
_ gathering dusk they could see some object com- 
ing up stream. It did seem larger and higher 
out of the water than crocodiles usually swim. 
The motion, too, was different. 
— “Crocodile!” cried Sergeant Hotchkiss, when 
he had taken a oa of it. “That’s no croco- 
dle. 
do. What is itt, then?” asked Blake, curiously. 
7 Bs “A native in a dugout canoe,” was the an-. 
¢ _ swer. “It’s a solitary native and it’s strange, 
_ too, seeing him all alone.” 
ie _ “He’s seen us and he’s going to turn back, is 
- put in Joe. 3 
_ Then Happy One, the leader of the blacks, 









178 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


called out something in his native tongue. There 


was a moment of silence and back floated an 
answer across the stream. 

“What does he say?” asked Mr. Duncan. 

“Happy One assured him that we were 
friends,” translated the sergeant; “and asked 
who he was and where he was going.” 

“What did he say?” 

“He said he was a messenger going for help 
for some captives.” 

“Help for some captives!” cried Blake. 
“Maybe he can tell us something about those 
we are after!” 

Sergeant Hotchkiss started in surprise, and 
then shouted something to Happy One, who 
immediately set up a great shouting. The lone 
messenger in the canoe, that was hollowed out 
of a solid tree trunk, hesitated a moment and 
then waved his paddle. 





‘ Pe is e ma eee te = ae é 2 Se ees ae 


. ea 
© bee tt So ae Le ates = “a 
a eee eae pee Te ae 


PS oe ee 





CHAPTER XXII - 
AN AFRICAN CAMP 


_ “HERE he comes!” cried Joe. : 

“And he doesn’t quite know whether he’s’ 
going to be captured, or whether we’re friends,” 
remarked Blake. “Joe, do you s’pose it’s pos- 
sible that he can be from—from your sister and 
her friends?” 

“I don’t know. It sounds too good to be 
true, Don’t let Dad hear you say that, or he 
may De terribly disappointed if it turns out 
wrong.” 

The lone messenger was paddling his clumsy 
boat toward the raft. i, 

“We'll soon know what’s up,” remarked Me. 
_ Piper. “That is, if he can speak any ordinary 
* language.” -. | 

_ “Oh, I guess between our natives and the ser- 


| vs geant we can make out,” spoke Blake. 


i The messenger came on more slowly, as 
_ though the nearer he approached the more 
A aes 179 





180 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


timid he became. They could see him plainly 
now—a big, tall native with rather more clothes 
than his kind usually wore. He carried in the 
boat with him a keen-edged spear and a big club 
that seemed to have been often used. 

A little way from the shore he halted his 
boat by sticking his paddle down in the muddy 
bottom and then he called out something. 
Happy One answered and the two carried on 
quite a conversation, with Sergeant Hotchkiss 
occasionally putting in a word. 

“What’s it all about?” called Mr. Duncan, 
impatiently. “Has he any news for us—good 
news?” 

“The very best we could expect!’ exclaimed 
the sergeant. “It appears he is a messenger— 
one of those captured from the mission station 


and carried off by the raiders along with the - 


whites.” 

“My daughter!” cried Mr. Duncan. “Is she 
alive—was she one of those carried off? Oh, 
tell me quickly!’ 

“T’d better tell you the whole story as I heard 


it,” said the former soldier. “Happy One, tell — 


him to come to the camp and eat. He must be 
half starved.” 

And from the manner in which the messenger 
ate it would seem that this was so. 





‘ 
; 


} 





| AN AFRICAN CAMP Lian est 


: “He was one of the natives ides in the mis- 


| Me sion settlement,” explained the sergeant to 
_ those gathered about him in that portion of the 
camp set aside for the use of the whites. “He 
was one of the Christian natives and everything 


was going well, when this party of Africans, 


who belong to one of the worst tribes of the 


_ whole continent, came along and made the raid, 
; _ burning the place and carrying off all whom 
they did not kill.” 


“And—and my daughter—Jessie?” exclaimed 


ae Mr. Duncan. 


_- “She and Mr. and Mrs. Brown were carried 
_ off, together with some men, women and chil- 
_ dren of the natives,” said Mr. Hotchkiss. “They 
_ were intended for slaves. After many hardships | 
the captives were brought into the village 
_ where their captors lived. There they were 
treated meanly, but none of them was killed. 


ie ‘“Finally the whites managed to get word to 
Me this young man, urging him to try to escape 


and take word of their plight to friendly natives, 
ys asking to be rescued. 


ae : “Chak, for that is his name, watched his — 








182 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


night, and his progress was slow. Once he was 
thrown overboard by a hippo ramming his craft, 
and again a crocodile nearly got him. But he 
kept on, and when he saw us he had just started 
out on his night trip. He did not know whether 
or not to trust us, but when he heard the 
friendly words of Happy One he decided to ap- 
peal to us.” 

“And he comes from Jessie?’ asked Joe. 

“Yes, she is one of the white captives, though 
Mr. and Mrs. Brown were the ones who directly 
sent the message. 

“How—how is she?” faltered Mr. Duncan. 
“How is Jessie?” 

“Unhappy and much frightened, as you may 
suppose,” said the sergeant; “but she was in no 
immediate danger when Chako left.” 

“How far is it to their camp?” demanded C. C. 
Piper, as he looked at his elephant gun. 


“About two full days’ journey down the river, 


and then one day into the jungle.” 

“Then let’s start at once!” cried Jessie’s 
father. “I must get to my daughter.” 

“It will be better to wait until morning,” sug- 
gested the former soldier. “It isn’t altogether 
safe to travel at night; and then, too, we can 
make better time by daylight.” 

“Oh, and to think that this native has lately 








AN ‘AFRICAN CAMP 183 


seen my little girl, whom I have not beheld in so 
long!” exclaimed the father. “Ask him how she 
_ was—tell me all about her!” | 
“He doesn’t know much,” replied the ser- 
geant. “The whites were separated from the 
black captives, so he had little chance to speak 
to her. But we ought to—oh, well, we’ll start 
at once, as soon as it is daylight,” said the ser- 
- geant, suddenly interrupting himself. “TI’ll tell 
Happy One to have the natives in readiness for 
a quick start. And—well, I guess that’s all,” 
_he concluded as he walked over to where the 
“messenger was being entertained by the porters. 
Blake followed. There was something in the 
_; manner. of Mr. Hotchkiss that worried him. 
When he got a chance to ees alone to the — 
former soldier the lad asked : 
“Is there anything wrong, Mr. Hotchkiss? 
; Is there more need for haste than you told?” 
The man looked around and, seeing neither 
we nor his father near, said: : 
“There is, Blake, grave need of haste, but I 
didn’ t dare speak before them. It seems that 
ia _ within a week these kidnapping natives are to 
celebrate one of their most cruel feasts. Many 
2 sacrifices are to be made and it may be that in 
_ their frenzy they may injure the whites. Though 







184 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


them, for they know the far-reaching power of 
the British government. 

“But when they are mad with their religious 
rites there is no telling what they may do. Yes, 
there is need of haste. I am going to tell Mr. 
Piper what I know, and with his help and yours, 
while keeping Joe and his father in ignorance 
of the imminent danger, we will make as much 
speed as we can without seeming to do so.” 

“A week off; eh?” mused Blake. “That ought 
to give us plenty of time.” 

“Yes, but we don’t know what delays we may 
meet in the jungle,” said the sergeant. “Then, 
too, this Chako may not have correctly esti- 
mated the time it takes.’ We shall have to pre- 
pare for the unexpected. They may proceed 
with their rites before the week is out. We 
must hasten.” 

“That’s right,” agreed Blake. 


They made‘an early start next morning, the 


curious boat Chako had paddled in being put on 
board one of the rafts. 

Fortune favored them, for they soon came to 
a part of the river where the current was swift, 
and they made good time. The members of the 
expedition had caught the fever and were anx- 
ious to hasten on to try conclusions with their 
black enemies. 





AN AFRICAN CAMP _— 185 


Spears and shields were looked to. Some of 
the natives improvised bows and arrows and a 
few had blow guns. Our white friends over- 
hauled their weapons and ammunition. 

“I hope it doesn’t come to a fight,” said 
Blake. “But if it does 

“We want to Ds prepared,” finished Mr. 
Hotchkiss. 

The boys had no chance now to take moving 
pictures, even had they been in the mood. All 
their thoughts were centered on the rescue. 

Finally the day came when Chako, the lone 
‘messenger, indicated that they were to leave 
the river and strike inland. The rafts were 
moored to the bank, though it was doubtful if 
they would be used again, for it would be almost 
impossible to pole them up stream. 

Into the jungle they struck, with Chako in 
the lead as a guide. This part of the journey 
he had correctly estimated and at dusk one day 
he signaled for a halt. 

“What is it?” asked Mr. Duncan. 

“The African camp, or village, that he es- 
caped from,” said the sergeant. “We are here 
at last!’ 





CHAPTER XXIII 
THE ATTACK 


THEY were in a dense part of the jungle. On 
all sides of them were immense trees, growing 
so close together that one could see only a lit- 
tle way in either direction. Between the trees 
grew a great tangle of vines and pendant moss, 
making an almost impassable barrier, save to an 
elephant or buffalo. | 

They had followed a rude trail, that, at times, 
was almost lost sight of. But Chako seemed to 
know the road by which he had escaped, and 
led on unerringly. Occasionally they would 
come to a swamp in which there was danger of 
sinking to one’s hips. But now they were near 
‘to the place where they hoped to rescue the 
captives. 

“What’s to be done?” asked Blake, as they 
came to a halt in the midst of the now almost 
twilight darkness in the dense jungle. 

“Rush right in and rescue my daughter and 


her friends!” cried Mr. Duncan. 
186 








eng THE ATTACK 187 


«He actually started forward, catching up one 
OF the guns carried by a native bearer. , 
ae “Hold on! That won’t do!” cried the ser-. 
geant: “We must map out a plan of campaign. 
To rush in now would be the worst kind of folly. 
_ They would either overwhelm us, for they far 
- outnumber us, or it would bring about the very 
thing we are trying to avoid | 
“You mean they might—might do something 
_ to the captives?” asked Blake. | 
“That’s it,” the sergeant went on. “We've 
got to use strategy in this attack. And one of 
- the first things we’ve got to do is to get to some 
place where we can camp without the noise 
“s penetrating to the village. Then we can make 
our. plans.” 
- Chako indicated that the African camp was 
still some little distance in advance, but added 
the information that scouts from it might be 
anywhere in the jungle, and might discover the 
_ presence of the rescuers and give the alarm. 
eis “Then back we go,” decided the sergeant. 
bao. We'll camp at the last spring we passed and 
have supper. Lucky we’ve got the fresh meat 
os we killed this noon, or the natives would go 
hungry.” For on the march that day C. C. had 
managed to kill a big antelope for food. 
ee: They feasted—at least the natives did, for 












188 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


they could eat no matter what impended—but 
the whites were too anxious to enjoy the meal. 
No unnecessary noise was made, for, though 
they were some distance from the village, there 
was no way of telling when black scouts might 
be about. 

“T think a night attack will be best,” said 
the sergeant, when-it had all been talked over. 
“That will take them most by surprise and give 
them the least chance of harming those we have 
come to save.” 

“Do you mean attack to-night?” asked Blake, 


“No, it is too late to do that now. I suggest 


that we rest to-night and to-morrow try to see 
how the situation is. Then we can attack with 
some chance of victory. Chako can probably 
tell us which side to make the ady etre against. 
And then——” 

“By jove! I have it!’ suddenly cried Joe. 
“The very thing for a night attack.” 

“What?” asked Blake. 


“Fireworks!” went on his chum. “You know 


we have quite a box of them that we got in 


Entebbe, expecting to use them in trading with 


some of the native chiefs, but we haven’t even 
opened them. They’re still in the water-tight 
package. Now what’s the matter with using 
them in the attack?” 





THE ATTACK aie 189 





Be “The very thing!” exclaimed the sergeant. 
: —“Couldn’ t be better. We'll attack to-morrow 
: night. Now to get some rest and when it’ ; day 
ee we'll see if we can spy out the camp.” — , 
- With Chako to lead them, Sergeant Hotch-' 
scan Blake and Joe made a cautious advance on ! 
the village early the next day. Mr. Duncan and 
oC C. Piper were left behind to stand guard, for 
_ there was no telling when a party of the kid- 
re , -_nappers might take a notion to penetrate the 
_ jungle. 
2 AS _ Approaching cautiously, the two moving pic- 
ture boys and the sergeant, guided by the mes- 
‘ -senger, soon came within sight of the native 
village. It was a typical one, with the thatched 
mud huts—many of them—arranged in some 
sort of order. One large hut, in the middle of 
ie the village, seemed to be that of one of the chief 
_ men, and Chako whispered that it was there the 
> king dwelt. 
“And what are those smaller huts near his— 
he the huts where the men stand in front with | 
_ spears: >” Mr. Hotchkiss wanted to know. i | 
_ “The white captives are there,” was the ane) 
_swer. “The young girl and Missis Brown and ie 
her man.” eee 
oy. sister there!” exclaimed re with ee ees 
ling Dh “Oh, is ae L can soon see her.” - 















hb) 3 >i 
BRM oer EA 


190 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


“Patience,”’ counseled the sergeant. “Now 
to plot out the best method of advance.” They 
were looking down on the village from a little 
hill to the north of it. The native town lay in a 
-elearing in the jungle that surrounded it on all 
sides. 


“T don’t see any better way of making the at-- 


tack than from here,” said Mr. Hotchkiss, after 
a pause. “It is easy to reach from our camp, 
too.”’ | 

“Then we'll attack from here?” asked Blake. 

“One party will. The other will circle around 
and execute a flank movement. We'll have 
them between two fires, and I guess that will 
take them by surprise. It may be possible to 
rout them without any serious loss. I hope so, 
for I Bee t want to take lives—not even of these 
savages.” 

“T think the fireworks will do the work,” de- 
clared Joe. 
_ The scouts returned to the camp and the 
plans were talked over and finally decided on. 
The attack was to be made just before day- 


break, as Chako said the Africans always slept — 


the heaviest then, and even the sentinels would 
probably be dozing after their hearty meal of 
meat. 

So it was arranged. The night passed slowly 





= 2 Nah fall oh met ee E nyt ns a Re ee 
7 Ee Pn ag ey ee ty ees re ge ee = oe eu 
ee eee ax les 5 oo 


Be ee 
a ee er ae lo 


: 
_ iso a a ce alee 
Te es ee alee? oe 


fy 


case 


rae 


- Fl keer i - 
2 al re te 
ae ee ee a ee ee 


THE ATTACK I9r 


—all too slowly for the anxiously waiting ones. 
Then the sergeant gave the order to advance. 
There was a late moon, which gave enough light 
for them to see their way, as silently they ap- 
proached to the attack. 

It was no easy task, marching through the 
jungle to make the attack. Hard enough it would 
have been in daylight, but with blackness all 
around them, hardly able to see where they were 
going, it was difficult in the extreme. 

“T do hope we make out all right,” murmured 
Blake, who was marching near Joe. 

“So do I, old chum. It’s a slim chance, but 
we've got to take it. If only we can surprise the 
beggars before they rouse up enough to know 
what hit ’em, we'll have it easier.” 

“Yes, I suppose so. That’s the worst of it, 
though. They are so used to awakening at the 
slightest sound that they may rouse up before we 
get ready to attack ’em.”’ 

“We'll have to take our chance, that’s all.” 

“Silence back there!’ suddenly called Mr. 
Hotchkiss, as the murmur of the boys’ voices 
reached him. “Don’t talk any more than you 
have to.” 

For a time they marched on silently, the only 
sound being the crackle of dried reeds as they 


192 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


broke under foot, or the occasional swish of the 
branches of trees under which they passed. 

“And to think that your sister is off here in 
this wilderness,” whispered Blake, when they had © 
gone on a little farther. “This is a small world, 
after all.” : 

“Tt is,’ agreed Joe. ‘To think that, only a 
comparatively short time ago, you and I were 
farm-boys. Now we’re in the African jungle and 
we don’t know what will happen.” 

“That’s right,” remarked Blake. “But if your 


sister is safe so far, there’s no reason why we - 


shouldn’t rescue her. : think the idea of the ey 
works is a dandy one.’ 

“Yes, if they only go off,” spoke Joe, 

“Why shouldn’t they go off?” 

“Oh, it’s so wet here. Land! when you get up 
in the morning your shoes are so damp you can 
hardly get them on.. And as for your clothes, 
you might just,as well sleep in a Turkish bath.” 

“It is damp,”’ agreed Blake. 

“And if the fuses don’t light easily we'll 
out of it,” went on his chum. “You see the plan — 
is to surprise them, and the fireworks will do 
that, if they shoot off quick enough.” | 

The march continued, until suddenly, from the 
van, there came a cry of alarm. It seemed to 
come from one of the natives. 










eae 2s | 

\ snake! he: Ge Blake. | . ane 
Well, that’s what he thought it was,” said | 
“au “Tt Sipe was only a big thorn ra ae 
. But he ee have raised ieee 





n ane pocket,” ” said Mr. Hotkhkise Bh war 
» keys on it, and he was tickled almost == 
with the jingle. He forgot all about his 
pri: down, Ale a had to tie 













194 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


“‘Are we near there?” asked Joe. 

“Yes, pretty close now. Don't make any more 
noise than you can help.” 

Again the line was formed, and the advance 
continued. It went on in silence for some time, 
until suddenly, off to the left, there came a sound 
like distant thunder. 

“What's that?” asked Joe. 

“Lions, I guess,” replied Blake. 

From the natives about them came the 
murmur: ) 

“Simba! Simba!’ 

“Quiet there!” commanded Mr.- Hotchkiss. 
“No lions will come near this party. Move on!” 

The roaring died away, only to be repeated a. 
little later, somewhat farther in advance. 

“This is Rete ’ murmured Blake, 

“Tt sure is,’ agreed his chum. “If those beasts 
make an attack it’s bound to give the whole game 
away.” 

“Oh, what a picture this would make!” mur- 
mured Blake. 

“But we wouldn’t dare try to film it,’ said 
Joe. ‘It would give us dead away. Hark to 
that, would you!” 7 

As he spoke the very ground seemed to vibrate _ 
with the sound of the roaring of the lions. There 
was almost a panic of fear among’ the natives until 





THE ATTACK 195 


the white men in charge had assured them that 
there was no danger. 

‘A halt was made, and a number of the black 
men begged that fires might be lighted to scare 
away the jungle beasts. But Mr. Hotchkiss 
knew this would be risky. Instead, he ordered 
those of his companions who had them to display 
their pocket electric torches. These tiny, flashing 
lights seemed to have the desired effect, for the 
roaring of the lions died away. 

Then the cavalcade advanced once more, Joe’s 
mind filled with anxious thoughts about the rescue 
of his sister. 

The natives carried their spears, or bows and 
arrows. The white men had their guns, Joe 
and Blake had a pyvolver each for use in 
emergency; but their'main arms were the fire- 
works, carried for them by several bearers. On 
reaching the mound where they had spied on the 
camp that afternoon a party, under C. C. Piper, 
was sent around to begin hostilities in the rear. 

“Fire as soon as you are there,” said Mr. 
Hotchkiss, ‘But shoot in the air. If we can 
scare them, without hurting any one, so much 
the better. Ready now! March! As soon as 
you attack, we'll get busy here!’ 


CHAPTER: AALYV. 


A VICTORY 


Watlrtinea in the darkness, looking down on the | | 


camp of the kidnapping Africans, Joe, Blake ~ 
and the sergeant, and the blacks with them, lis- 
tened for the echoes of the shots that would tell 
of the beginning of the attack. C. C. Piper and 
Mr. Duncan, with about half of the porters and 
Chako, were in the second party. 

“T wonder what will happen,” asked Blake, 
“when the firing begins?” 

“There'll be one grand rush,” said Joe, “and 
it will be up to us to make it a worse one. The 
more we can demoralize them the better it will 
be for us.” rn 

“That’s right,” agreed the sergeant. “Get “em 
wild, so they don’t know what’s happening, and — 
we can rush in there and make our rescues. I 
hope we shall be able to save some of the mis- 
sionaries’ friends as well as your sister and Mr. 
and Mrs. Brown, Joe.” 


196 





'A VICTORY 197 


“T hope so, too. Lucky we got here before 
they began their so-called religious ceremonies— 
these kidnappers.” 

“That’s right. Chako said they might start 
to-morrow, though. We’re only just in time.” 

“And it will soon be to-morrow,” spoke 
Blake, softly. “It will be daylight in a short 
time.” : 

They looked down on the camp. Here and 
there a sentinel fire could be seen burning dimly, 
but even the guards had gone to sleep, it 
seemed, for none could be observed pacing 
about. It was as the messenger had said—they 
all slept heavily toward morning. 

“They ought to be there by this time,” said 
the sergeant after a long pause. ‘I wonder if 
anything could have happened to bs 

He was interrupted by several shots that 
echoed through the night. The darkness, over 
on the far side of the camp, was cut by several 
jagged splinters of flame. 

“There they go!” cried Blake. 

“Now for the fireworks!” sang out his chum. 

Once more came a burst of rifle fire from the 
other attacking party. 

“Tet em go!” shouted the sergeant. 

The scene was now one of confusion. The 
blacks in their camp, suddenly awakened by the 





198 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


volleys, were rushing about, yelling at the top 
of their voices. They could not imagine what 
was going on. A few shots came in return— 
shots from old-fashioned muskets that did no 
harm. 

Then, with a mighty roar, a big skyrocket 
shot over the African camp, scattering fire and 
sparks and colored balls in its train. It was fol- 


lowed by several others; Roman candles, and - 


then several other forms of pyrotechnics, set off 
by Blake and Joe, shot through the darkness. 


The effect was startling. The blacks who had 


started to run away from the rifle fire, harmless 


as it was, for the shots were directed into the ~ 


air, were met by the rain of sparks from the 


aerial bombs and other pieces of Fourth of July 
ordnance the moving picture boys touched off. 


There was considerable noise, too, for some of 


the pieces burst with loud reports. 


“How are you making out, Joe?” éalled Blake | 


{rem the place where he had stationed himseli— — 


a sort of clearing behind a clump of mimosa 
trees. woe 

“Fine and dandy. How about you?’ 

. “Oh, I’m all right. I’ve set off a lot of those 
big skyrockets. Say, they’re peaches! Did you 
see how they burst?” 


“T should say yes! One nearly went off before 





A VICTORY, 199 


i was ready for it—too short a fuse. I got ready 
to run.” 

“That’s right. Here goes for one of those 
bombs! I’m glad we had these things with us.” 

So am I!” 

For a time the chums could not speak: to each 
other, though but a short distance apart, for the 
noise of the fireworks was almost deafening. 
The jungle was lighted up with’the hues of-many- 
colored fires, and the wild heasts were thrown into 
a panic by the unusual demonstration. 

There sounded the deep-voiced defiance of 
distant lions, which, died away to be replaced by 
the shrill laughing-like sound: of hyenas that were 
always hanging about, slinking around to see if 
they could not make a meal off what some 
_ stronger or more brave beast had killed, 

Then would come the chatter of monkeys dis- 
turbed at their slumbers, or the scolding of par- 
rots or other birds of the dense forest. It was 
as though the morning sun had unexpectedly risen 
and called into life all the inhabitants of the 
jungle. 

Mr. Duncan came running up to where Joe 
and Blake were stationed, and, in the glare 
of a bursting rocket, they saw that his face was 
blackened with powder. 


200 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


“Have you seen her, Joe?” he gasped. “Did 
you get a sight of her?” 

“No, Dad,” replied the brother of the a they 
had come so far to rescue. 

“Did you, Blake?” 

“No, Mr. Duncan. But it’s so dark, and we 
aren't quite near enough to the camp yet. Weill 
get her all right, never fear.” : 

“Oh, boys, I can’t help being worried. It 
means so much to me. Think how I would feel 
if those natives—those Africans—should turn ~ 
against her at this last minute and 

Mr. Duncan was so affected that he could not 
go on. 

“Now, Dad, you don’t want to think anything 
like that!” exclaimed Blake, heartily. “We'll 
scare these fellows so they won’t know where > 
they’re at. Come on here! Help Blake and me 
set off some of these fireworks. We've got more 
than we can handle!’ and he thrust into his 
father’s hand a torch used to ignite the fuses. 

“That’s the way to talk to him!” said Blake, 
in a low voice. ‘Keep him occupied. Then he 
won't think so much about your sister. I think 
she’s safe—don’t you, Joe?” 

“T hope so.” | 

“Oh, she must be. Why, it was all quiet when 
we stole up, and we've been so busy ever since 








Re a ee es = ts ee 
~ oF Re ee a s hs Le ae isnt a “Lames. aX <2 
: a mi aaa aie Se = 


‘A VICTORY, 201 


_ that they haven’t had time to rush off with her 


to another part of the jungle. They must think 
this is a shower of meteors, or something: like 
that.” 

“T hope they do,” murmured Joe, as he brought 
up another rocket from the box where the supply 
was kept. 

The shooting of the pyrotechnics was kept up 
for some time longer. Then C. C. Piper, who had 
been industriously letting off bombs and Roman 
candles, seemed to beat his own energetic record. 
For there was a great burst of fire from where 
he had stationed himself, and then his voice was 
heard to call: 

“Help! Come here! I’m getting shot 

“What is it?” yelled Joe. 

“Come here and you'll see! I guess I must 
have—” his voice was drowned out in a burst of 
noise that sounded like the letting off of strings 
of firecrackers. 

Guided by the glare and brightness, Joe and 
Blake rushed through the jungle to where 
their old friend had stationed himself. As they 
reached him they saw him rushing about in the 


4°? 


_ midst of a lot of sparks, while all about him balls 


from Roman candles shot in various directions. 
“What is it? What is it?’ cried Blake. 


202 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


“T dropped a match in a box of fireworks!” 
yelled Mr. Piper. “They’re going off!” 

“IT should say so,” agreed Joe. 

As he spoke a skyrocket that must have been 
lying on the ground, or some flat surface, shot 
over his head with a whiz and a roar. 

“Look out!’ yelled Blake. But he need not 
have spoken, for Joe ducked instinctively and the 


rocket, colliding with a tree, burst with a loud 


report and a shower of fire. 

Then came another, so close to C. C. that the 
actor’s clothes were set ablaze. | 
“Gee whiz!’ cried Joe. ‘This is the limit!” 

“Help! Help! cried Mr. Piper, vainly en- 
deavoring to beat out the flames. 


Blake,’ seeing the danger, ran to a pool of 


water, and filling his hat, dashed the liquid over 
the man. The spray served to put out the flames, 
and Mr. Piper, beating out the last remaining 
sparks with his hands, tossed some damp earth 
on the smouldering box of fireworks. 


“That’s over, anyhow!” he remarked with a 


sigh of relief. | 
“Come on!” yelled Joe. “One last volley and 

I think we'll have ’em on the run!’ | 
Then the native porters set up shouts of tri- 


umph. They were answered with wild yells of 


‘A VICTORY 203 


fear from the kidnappers. The shooting re- 
doubled in its sound and glare, | 

“Give ’em all we have!” yelled Blake, as by 
the flare of the rockets he saw the mass of na- 
tives huddled in the centre of the village, too 
terrified to move. 

“All we have—that’s right!” echoed Joe, as 
he sent another aerial bomb aloft. “It’s now or 
wnever.” 

The fusillade was greeted with a chorus of 
groans and yells. Then there burst out a blaze 
from the centre of the village. 

“One of the huts is on fire!’ cried Blake. 
“The sparks have caught on the thatched 
roof!” 

“And it’s the king’s, too!” yelled Joe. “Come 
on, or the other huts may catch—the ones 
where Jessie and the missionaries are. Come 
on!” 

“Go ahead!” cried Sergeant Hotchkiss. “I 
guess we’ve)got ’em on the run!” 

And so they had.» Endeavoring to escape 
from the fire of the guns on the south, the 
Africans had rushed to the north, there to be 
met with the fusillade of skyrockets and Roman 
candles. It was too much for their superstitious 
natures. They might stand a human assault, but 
the fire from heaven was too much. 


204 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


With howls of fear they rushed off to one side 
—off into the jungle, deserting their village. — 
Men, women and children fled, leaving their 
captives to those who had come to rescue them. | 
It was a complete victory. 

“Come on, Dad!” shouted Joe, as he she Blake: 
rushed into the deserted native village, several 
huts of which were now ablaze. “We'll get 
Jessie!” 

“Jessie! Jessie! Where are you?” cried the — 
anxious father. “‘We have come to save you!” 


CHAPTER XXV 
SISTER JESSIE 


For a moment there was a lull in the noise. 
The firing had ceased, the skyrockets and 
Roman candles had died away. The aerial 
bombs no longer crashed like thunder over- 
head. 

The attacking party, flushed with victory, 
ceased for the time their cries of delight at the 
ease with which they had driven OF their 
“enemies. 

As for the kidnapping natives, they were no 
longer in sight, for they had slunk off into the 
jungle, fearing the just vengeance of those 
whom they had despoiled and captured. 

“Jessie! Jessie!’ shouted Mr. Duncan again. 
“Are you here? We have come to save you?” 

There was silence again, and then from one of 
the smaller huts, near the one where the king 
had dwelt, came girlish tones. 

“Who is calling me? Yes, 1am here? Oh, 

205 


206 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


Mr. Brown, is that your What has happened? 
Where is Mrs. Brown. Oh, what is going on?” 

“Jessie! Jessie!’ called another voice—one 
that seemed to come from an adjoining hut. 
“T did not call. I don’t know what to make of 


it. My wife is here, but she has fainted. I can't” 


SS ee 
er ae i a eee ee, nS ae 


get out. I’m tied. So is she. Can you escape 


and tell me what it is? I fear the village is on 

fire. I heard guns is . , 
“So did I. Oh! if it is only a rescue——” her 

voice faltered and she could be heard to sob. 
“It is a rescue!” shouted Joe. “Dad and I 





have come for you, Jessie. Tm your brother. 


Father is here!” 
“Father—brother!” faltered the tones. “I 
have none. Iam all alone——” 


“Hurry out before the hut catches fire!’ cried 


Mr. Duncan, who, in rushing toward the rude 
building, had stumbled and fallen. 


“T am a prisoner—tied fast,” the girl’s voice 


answered. ‘Oh! whoever you are, save us!” 
“Come on,” yelled Blake. “This whole place 
will be on fire in a few minutes. We've got to 
get ‘em out!” 
They dashed for the huts. It was a matter 


of seconds only to tear aside the grass cloth that — 


served as doors. Then the flames from several 
burning huts lighted up the interior. 













ae 


fe sister JESSIE. ap ‘ i y i 


; } 


meee ue ened! 


Ae, I’ve found you at ‘last. | 





aa 


Yen it is  esiew Jessie! Hy exclaimed 
Bhe was, a baby I aay Lae her any- 
_ Oh, Jessie, we have you neg) 7 have ; 
and daughter now!” — 

Vas ie Mies her sae | Wonderingly s she 


/ hs 


‘Ts | 


it—is it Lene ya” the faltered. Sane a eo ME | ie 
“Blake, come over: 





; d se a, 
i cried - 


408 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


“It’s all right. I got them out,” said Ser- 
geant Hotchkiss. “They were tied to the cen- 
tre pole of their hut, but here they are all safe. 
Not harmed a bit,” and he stood to one side to 
disclose those whom he had rescued. | 

“Oh, Jessie! can it be true that we are saved?” 
cried a lady, as she rushed up and clasped the 
girlin her arms. “I had almost given up hope.” 

“The Lord is very good to us,” said a man’s 
voice behind her, and then Mr. Brown went on: 
“Dear friends, we cannot thank you enough. 
It is all a mystery to me. I do not even know 
you, but can it be possible that our dear little 
missionary helper has found the relatives she 
suspected she had, but about whom she was 
never sure—can she have found them in this 
strange fashion?” | 

“No, we found her!’ cried Joe, laughing. 
“But it’s all the same!’ 

“Come, hurry away from here!” cried C. C.. 
Piper. “It’s getting too hot, We can talk 
later.’ 

“That’s right,” agreed Mr. Brown. 

“What about. the native prisoners?’ asked 
Mr. Duncan. “We should save them, too.” 

“They are not confined in any huts,” said Mr. 
Brown. ‘““They were treated as slaves, but not 
tied up. I fancy they escaped when you drove 






Ps Cee BOG 
i : 


! rs off. ia your shots, es it eee e too 
ne be true!” i 


210 MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE 


her parentage, without result. Finally she had — 
been, in a sense, adopted by Mr. and Mrs. 
Brown and had traveled with them extensively, 
acting as a helper in their missionary work and 
eventually coming to Africa. 

Of the horrors of the raid and the terrors of 
their trip through the jungle and as captives 
little was said. They wanted to forget it. Jes- 
sie told how, in a moment amid the mad 
scenes, she had written the message in the Bible 
and tossed it out, hoping some friend would 
find it. 

“And it will be easy to forget all the sad 
scenes now that I have a father and a brother,” 
said Jessie, as she looked at them both fondly. 

“Our trip ended most successfully,” said Blake. 
“Not only did we get some of the best moving — 
pictures ever filmed, but we found what we 
came after—Sister Jessie.” : 

“And what will you do next?” the rescued 
girl wanted to know, when they had related 
their strange adventures since coming to Africa, 
and had told of their work in filming many weird 
scenes. 

“It’s hard to say,’ replied Joe. “Things seem 
to come our way most unexpectedly.” But 
what they did next and what happened to them 
will be told of in the next book of this series, 


SISTER JESSIE 211 


to be called “The Movie Boys in Earthquake 
Land”; or “Filming Pictures Amid Strange 
Perils.”’ 

After a rest in the partially burned African 
village the expedition was reformed and with 
the former captives—white as well as black—the 
start for Entebbe was made. There were hard- 
ships on the way, but they put up with them as 
best they could. The boys got several more 
fine films of wild animals, some secured with no 
little danger, and they shot some big game. 

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” 
said Blake when they were on the steamer on 
the way to New York, accompanied by C. C. 
Piper, Mr. Duncan, Jessie, of course, and Mr. 
and Mrs. Brown. For the missionaries decided 
to take a vacation, as Mrs. Brown was very 
nervous because of her captivity. 

“Tt sure was great,” declared Joe. “I hope 
our circus man likes the films.” 

And that he did need not be doubted, for 
Blake and Joe were by this time experts in the 
moving picture business. And thus, safely on 
their way to New York, we will take leave of 
our heroes and their friends. 


THE END 








of. 


- MOVIE BOYS ON CALL, 
or Filming the Perils of A Great City. Published alts 2, 1926 
HE MOVIE BOYS IN THE WILD WEST, _ 
or Stirring Days Among the Cowboys and Indians. 
Published January 28, ae 
“MOVIE BOYS AND THE WRECKERS, 

Facing the Perils of the Deep. Published F ebruary 28, 1926 
E MOVIE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE, 
Lively | Times Among the Wild Beasts. Published March 28, 1926. 

















“A eatilming Pictures and Strange Perils. Published April 28, 1926 : 
: oP MOVIE BOYS AND THE _FLOOD, 


as Days Alqng the Panama Canal 


Crap Published June 28, ig 
MOVIE BOYS UNDER THE SEA et 
r The Treasure of the Lost Ship. Published July 28, 1926 © 


ar The Search for the Stolen Film, " Published August 28, 1926 

















r Taking Pictures for the Army. Published’ September 28, 1926 
E MOVIE BOYS’ FIRST SHOWHOUSE, 
¢ Fighting for a Foothold in Fairlands. Published October 28, 1946 
MOVIE BOYS AT SEASIDE PARK, 

The Rival Photo Houses of the Boardwalk. 


H MOVIE. Be BOYS on BROADWAY, 


‘HE Mc OVIE BOYS" OUTDOOR EXHIBITION, 
or the Film that Solved the Mystery. Published January 28, 1927 
MOVIE BOYS’ NEW IDEA, 


OVIE BOYS’ WAR SPECTACLE, 





Published November ai Midas 4 
Published December 28, 1 9. ve, x" ee 
tting | the Best of Their Enemies. Published February 28, 19a 4 Pern 


Greatest Film Ever Exhibited. Published March 28, r927 v 
‘he Film that Won the Prize. — Published April 28, ide Piae 





The Frank Allen Series 


By GRAHAM B. FORBES 





FRANK ALLEN’S SCHOOLDAYS, 
or The Ali Around Rivals of Columbia High. 
Published January 2, 1926 


FRANK ALLEN PLAYING TO WIN, 


or the Boys of Columbia High on the Ice. 
Published January 7, 1926 


FRANK ALLEN IN WINTER SPORTS, 
or Columbia High on Skates and Iceboats. 
Published February 7, 1926 


FRANK ALLEN AND HIS RIVALS, 
or The Boys of Columbia High in Track Athletics. 
Published March 7, 1926 


FRANK ALLEN—PITCHER 
or The Boys of Columbia High on the Diamond. 
Published April 7, 1926 
FRANK ALLEN—HEAD OF THE CREW, 
or The Boys of Columbia High on the River. 
Published May 7, 1026 
FRANK ALLEN IN CAMP, 


or Columbia High and the School League Rivals. . 
Published June 7, 1926 





Garden City Publishing Co., Imc. 
Garden City ~ ~ New York 


ie ELEN DL 











ETE STORIES 


ye dia “ed RIDLEY, Jr. 










"Published January 2, 1936, 


Nat Ridley at tthe > Magne Mine, { {7 | inp 
id Published January 21, ae 


sat Ridley: ns a Life. Published tc 21, 1926 


SRIME ( N THE LIMITED, Dee 
pet suas in 1 the Follies. Published March 21, , toat Many ya) 











| Published A pril 2 21, 1, 1926 ie “a 


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| ion 





s Queerest Pure Gut a be ape Dd ee & 
; Published September 21, sth 








The Dave Fearless Series 
By ROY ROCKWOOD 





DAVE FEARLESS AFTER A SUNKEN 
TREASURE, 3 


or The Rival Ocean Divers. Published January 2, 1926 


DAVE FEARLESS ON A FLOATING ISLAND, 
or The Cruise of the Treasure Ship. 
Published January 14, 1926 


DAVE FEARLESS AND THE CAVE OF 


MYSTERY, 
or Adrift on the Pacific. Published February 14, 1926 


DAVE FEARLESS AMONG THE ICEBERGS, 
er The Secret of the Eskimo Igloo. : 
Published March 14, 1926 


DAVE FEARLESS WRECKED AMONG 
SAVAGES, 


or The Captives of the Head Hunters. 
Published April 14, 1926 


DAVE FEARLESS AND HIS BIG RAFT, 
or Alone on the Broad Atlantic. Published May 14, 1926 





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ONEAG OF THE DESERT ee W. C. Tuttle 
ARIZONA ARGONAUTS He H. Bedford-Jones 


ass HE C. CANYON OF THE GREEN DEATH by F. R. meee 


i 


vais havnt CORRAL by Ralph Cummins 


“THE SHERIFF OF PECOS by H. ele lines Pee tl 
ti at WONDERSTRANDS ae Samuel Alexander White 


ie THE ONE BIG THING by James B. Hendryx 
AVENGERS OF THE SEA by George Ethelbert Walsh 
MUSKET HOUSE by Theodore Goodridge Roberts 
MORMON VALLEY by H. Bedford-Jones 

THE LAW OF THE RANGE by W. C. Tuttle i 
ITH ROPE AND BRAND <4 William Maer aahe Raine 


HE BANDIT OF ‘DEVIL'S OWN by L. De RG 

oc!” 5H Harold Titus 

HE OUTLAW OF RATTLESNAKE GAP by H. Bedford-Jones 
MPS ‘OF THE RANGE by RB, C. Tuttle 


en City Publishing Co., Inc. es 
City. Gad eee oe ral York — 





12 Famous Authors 





A Rare Combination of World-Famous Authors, 
Each Represented by a Notable Work | 


THE DUEL by Joseph Conrad. An acknewledged master of Eng- 
lish prose tells a dramatic story of France. 


NORTH OF 53 (from Pardners) by Rex Beach. In the land of 
the midnight sun men fight for a living. 


WINGS by Gene Stratton-Porter. With Nature as a background 
Mrs. Porter brings the wildfolk close to our hearts. 


MA PETTENGILL TALKS by Harry Leon Wilson. Do you re- 
member Ruggles of Red Gap? Ma Pettengill was one of his . 
friends. 


UNEDUCATING MARY by Kathleen Norris. From a life of 
luxury to the hard facts of life goes a conquering girl. 


THE BEAUTIFUL LADY by Booth Tarkington. A romance 
under the glamorous Italian moon. 


THE DARK FLEECE by Joseph Hergesheimer. A forty-niner 
comes East with his golden fleece which soon fails to glisten. 


AN AMATEUR by W. B. Maxwell. She thought of suicide— 
the race that night was against death itself. 


CAPT. WARDLAW’S KITBAGS by Harold MacGrath. How 
old was Cupid? Many have guessed, but few have discovered. 


THE GORGEOUS ISLE by Gertrude Atherton. A bmilliant novel- 
ist writes of love and regeneration under tropical skies. 


THE TOUCHSTONE by Edith Wharton. And this is how it 
happened—but no! Read it for yourself. Mrs. Wharton is 
« literary artist. ; 


THE SPANISH JADE by Maurice Hewlett. A fascinating story 
of the pursuit through Spain of a seductive beauty. 








ante 


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THRILLING, BLOOD - CHILLING 
EXCITING STORIES! 





Mystery and Detective Series 


Follow the crooked trails of criminals—with cour- 
ageous men face danger and death against an invisible 
foe-——unravel strange, terrible mysteries. Many ex- 
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ALL IN A NIGHT’S WORK. 
By Ethel Watts Mumford and George Bronson Howard 


THE DEVIL’S HEIRLOOM. By Anthony M. Rud 
THE DEATH BELL. By Edison Marshall 

THE CURRENCY EXPERT. By Francis Lynde 
FLA? 2 By Edgar Wallace 


GREEN TIMBER THOROUGHBREDS. 
By Theodore Goodridge Roberts 


CROOKED SHADOWS. By Gordon Young 

$10,000 REWARD. By Charles Wesley Sanders 

THE WATER DEVIL. By Crittenden Marriott 

THE REMITTANCE WOMAN. By Achmed Abdullah 
THE MOSS MYSTERY. By Carolyn Wells 

THE GRAY GULL. By Henry Francis Granger 


vs a A | A RR A SN Nm serene] 


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Three Boys’ Books. 


CAVES OF TERROR 
By Talbot Mundy 


A story of two secret service detectives in India. They 
get mixed up with some natives who take them through 
caves and grottos which hold all the mysteries and secrets 
and horrors of the strange East. A hair-raising story. 


THE OXBOW WIZARD | 
By Theodore Goodridge Roberts 


A thrilling story about a boy trapper and amateur de- 
tective who goes into the Oxbow forest. With splendid 
daring the boy runs down the villains, but only after a 
series of adventures which make stirring reading for 
fathers and mothers as well as sons, 


THE WHALER 
By Ben Ames Williams 


A New England lad stumbled into New Bedford only to — 
have a man with a gash in his neck fall dead at his feet. 
Shanghied aboard a whaler the lad goes through a tough 
cruise with a variety of stirring adventures and comes 
home a new man. 





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ee ae Edition 
aa Lillian Eichler . 


ifobcket edition of the famous book which has sold 
1 million copies retains all the important portions of 
ginal. ‘This i is the ideal manual for correct behavior. 








ish 40 acquire a. sound and convincing mastery of 
nglish. There are many sample letters, etc. Included is 
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Th Pe etbie guide to ied forceful English for the 
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The Movie Boys Series 


By VICTOR APPLETON 





THE MOVIE BOYS ON CALL, 
or Filming the Perils of A Great City. Published January 2, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS IN THE WILD WEST, 
or Stirring Days Among the Cowboys and Indians. 
Published January 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS AND THE WRECKERS, . 
or Facing the Perils of the Deep. Published February 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE. 
or Lively Times Among the Wild Beasts. Published March 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS IN EARTHQUAKE LAND, 
or Filming Pictures an] Strange Perils. Published April 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS AND THE FLOOD. 
or Perilous Days on the Mighty Mississippi. Published May 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS IN PERIL, 
or Strenuous Days Along the Panama Canal. 
/ Published June 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS UNDER THE SEA, 
or The Treasure of the Lost Ship. Published July 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS UNDER FIRE, 
or The Search for the Stolen Film. Published August 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS UNDER UNCLE SAM, 
or Taking Pictures fer the Army. Puhlished September 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS’ FIRST SHOWHOUSE, ; 
or Fighting for a Foothold in Fairlands. Published October 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS AT SEASIDE PARK, 
or The Rival Photo Houses of the Boardwalk. , 
Published November 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS ON BROADWAY, 
or The Mystery of the Missing Cash Box. 
Published December 28, 1926 
THE MOVIE BOYS’ OUTDOOR EXHIBITION, 
or the Film that Solved the Mystery. Published January 28, 1927 
THE MOVIE BOYS’ NEW IDEA, 
or Getting the Best of Their Enemies. Published February 28, 1927 
THE MOVIE BOYS AT THE BIG FAIR, 
or The Greatest Film Ever Exhibited. Published March 28, 1927 
THE MOVIE BOYS’ WAR SPECTACLE, 
or The Film that Won the Prize. Published April 28, 1927 


Garden City Publishing Co., Inc. 
Garden City - - New York 








